Star Trek Online: Bonaventure
by the Starfleet Kid
Summary: The adventures of Captain Twaiheak (Tw'eak) Sh'abbas, an Andorian Starfleet officer commanding USS Bonaventure. She takes risks, lives for the glory of battle, and commands both the loyalty of her friends and officers, and the grudging respect of her adversaries. Join Tw'eak as she boldly goes across the Star Trek Online universe in this fan fiction dedicated to Trek fans like you.
1. Chapter 1

**A Brief Note:** These characters are based upon the ones I play as in-game. The following story begins some time between seasons six and seven of Star Trek Online. I started writing this in 2013, so it was current then, but I've been writing a bit of the story every now and then ever since. I'll be uploading this one piece at a time over the next little while, but I'd ask your forgiveness if it isn't *perfectly* in keeping with every detail from the game, the novels, the films, and so forth. Any errors in overall gameplay or story elements are solely for storytelling purposes, and I accept full responsibility for using them as I have. Furthermore, if I run afoul of any of the established story, as it appears in novels, films or episodes of Star Trek, I accept full responsibility for that, too. I tried to research all the details as best I could, but I doubtless slipped up on a few things. Thanks in advance for reading, hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

The interior of Research Station Theta-112 was a ghastly sight to the sergeant's eyes. Bulkheads burst from weapons fire, circuitry dangling like innards or sinews of a creature whose corridors were his job to secure. Just a few hours before, he'd been on duty, walking these halls and pretending to keep it safe. It seemed like years ago now. The KDF strike teams had hit hard, in force, with a series of their Gorn members' bulky frames visible just down the corridor, moving around in their fortified position near the computer core. They had been there, and he had been here, behind a hastily-arranged barricade of upturned tables and station components, for at least four or five hours.

Behind his position on the right of the barricade, three of his marines, and the lone ranking ensign left on this deck, were having their wounds tended by their medic, a pretty Trill female, while he and his corporal watched the line. The assault they had recently attempted had been repulsed, and he desperately hoped to be reinforced in time to finish the job right. Fighting their way into a heavily-shielded computer core, with its three-deck layout and its lack of easy exits, would result in a lot of casualties and no way to med-evac them with a quick beam-out. It would be next to impossible to stop the KDF force in time to keep them from achieving whatever objective they had in mind without an army of Starfleet marines at his back... and maybe not even then.

It was a surprise for them to strike here, this KDF force, at this particular station, located as it was in orbit around Argelius V, a gas giant orbiting a star closer to the former borders of the Romulan Star Empire than the Klingon Empire's. They must have been after something - what, it wasn't the sergeant's job to know. But the experience of this war had taught him that no place in the Federation was necessarily safe. Between Borg transwarp conduits, infiltrators shifting their shapes, and the shadowy presence of antagonists like the Tal Shiar and the Breen, this was just another firing line dividing those safe within the Federation's borders from those beyond who wanted to destroy it. But it was his to defend.

The familiar sound of a Starfleet transporter beam resonated in the corridor just behind the barricade, in the direction where the second platoon of his company had secured the researchers. The space station wasn't terribly big, and through one of the bulkhead windows down that corridor he could discern the orange curvature of Argelius V just beyond. To his surprise, the sergeant only saw five blue signatures coming into view, materializing to form a series of small humanoid figures clad in grey-and-red battle armour. Despite himself, he sighed audibly. These were clearly not the reinforcements he'd been expecting.

"Jenkins," he said to his corporal, "cover me while I see what's up." Jenkins nodded as she moved towards his position, and he quickly pushed off the line towards the corridor.

"Are you in charge here?" one of the figures beaming in down the corridor asked.

"That's right." The sergeant toggled the safety on his phaser rifle. "You our reinforcements?"

"Something like that." The speaker stepped forward, clearly visible. A slightly-built figure in silhouette, whom he quickly realized by her antennae was an Andorian, unholstered a rifle of a kind he'd never seen before. Her face and jaw were angular, but feminine, her stance anything but, clearly a combat veteran like himself. Her hair was not a typical Andorian shade, but appeared to be tinted slightly. He watched as she took a quick step beyond him, leaning her head towards the barricade. Behind her came a pair of human females, one of whom had some sort of glowing device tucked under her hair on one side of her face. The fourth was a Saurian, his form a dark purple, his eyes reflecting the light beyond. The last in the formation, his rifle already drawn, his eyes already taking in every angle of the surroundings, gave the sergeant a quick once-over as threat assessment, and then dissolved into shadows, having activated a stealth module.

The human officer, an engineer, stopped and smiled for a moment. She kept her blonde hair in a pair of tight pigtails, and carried a phaser compression pistol at her hip. "We're here from the Bonaventure. We received a distress signal and -"

"Aurora," the lead officer, the Andorian, called out to the blonde lieutenant. "That can wait. Right now I want you to get to the other side of this barricade and put down a quantum mortar, then a shield-gen just a few paces back from it." She turned to the other officer, whom the sergeant could now clearly see had once been assimilated into the Borg. "Same thing on this side if you would please."

"Immediately," she responded, conjuring some sort of Borg weapon that extended from the length of her right arm. She took up this prosthetic device with her other hand to control it, and nodded, ready to move out.

The Andorian officer stepped to the side of the other two. "Zed, I want you to be right behind me, ready with the exothermic, on my mark. And Shep, you know what to do."

The male tactical officer's bearded face spread into a broad grin as he re-appeared at her elbow. "How you want to handle 'em, boss?"

She unlocked the safety setting, and her rifle began to glow and make a high-pitched whirring noise. "Let's see how they handle us."

"Yes, sir." Once again, he vanished, his smile seeming to fade last, like a cat in a childhood tale the sergeant remembered.

The Andorian officer looked up towards the sergeant. "You're welcome to come along, but I don't want you and your people in our way."

"Wait," said the sergeant, raising a hand. "This is my position. What're you planning? I mean, who are you people, anyway?"

She turned away, kitting herself out for combat. The blonde engineer looked at him quickly, then her eyes fixated upon her intended position. "I told you. We're from the Bonaventure. We're here to re-take this position."

Astounded, the sergeant looked from the engineer back to her commanding officer, whose personal shield snapped online after a moment. "Just sit tight, watch our line of extraction... and don't let them get behind us." She glanced towards her engineer.

"Minefields and covering fire, I know, I know," she recited.

"Okay. Set?" The Andorian looked from one officer to the next, all nodding assent. "Then let's roll."

The two engineers fanned out, one across the way, the other into her designated position near the corridor exit. The Andorian and the officer she had called Shep moved towards, then over, the barricade, followed closely behind by the Saurian she'd called Zed. For his part, the sergeant fell in on the line, skeptical. Corporal Jenkins watched them go, almost rising for a moment to try and restrain them, before she looked to her sergeant, who simply shook his head. As the three officers moved forwards, the wounded marines and their medic leaned forwards over the barricade, watching as Shep once again faded from view, and the other two did their best to move into an ambush position against the wall.

From the edge of one of the blasted bulkheads, the Andorian officer's personal shield flickered for a moment, having brushed up against something sharp in the darkness. This seemed to gain the attention of a Nausicaan in the KDF position, who half-rose to become visible. As one, two bursts of quantum mortar fire leapt forth, blue fireballs rising down the corridor before plunging to burst and knock the Nausicaan back down again. Two, then four, then several figures then became visible, all clad in armour and brandishing varying types of heavy disruptor weapons. A few of them carried bat'leths and swords, but most had an energy weapon to hand. The Andorian officer raised a hand, signaling the Saurian, who initiated a sequence of hand motions over his tricorder. In a moment, the area that had once been densely packed with KDF troopers was aflame. The explosion caused the troopers in the pocket of fire to dash madly about, which led them into a kill zone between the Andorian officer's antiproton beams and the indistinct line of fire from the stealthy Shep. She moved forwards, now, no longer in ambush. The Saurian, for his part, had drawn some sort of compression pistol, firing a wide blue beam that seemed to be causing the KDF troopers' shields to overload. This had all happened in a matter of moments, and before long the Andorian officer stood atop the position, waving them towards her.

"Now you see," said the liberated Borg engineer. "Now you understand."

"Well, that's not very nice, Octavia," offered the other, blonde engineer. "They don't seem to know who we are."

"Who you are?" asked Corporal Jenkins. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Me either," said the sergeant, "but let's move out."

They crossed quickly to what had been the KDF position just outside the computer core entry area. The whole area was permeated with an awful stench, like he had always imagined a Klingon mess hall to smell. All around were KDF officers, Gorn, Klingon, Nausicaan, Orion, all dead. The Trill medic waved a tricorder quickly over the area, and her face took on a grim expression. Whoever this Andorian and her officers were, they weren't taking prisoners, at least not today.

They moved without use of cover down the entryway, past several more dead troopers, over and around a series of Federation-issue mines on the floor, into the computer core, the very heart of the station's structure. Three decks in depth, it required the use of lifts or ladders in order to traverse to the top deck, where the access point was located. Already the sergeant and his marines could hear fire from the deck above as they came into the room. The two engineers quickly fanned out, one placing a phaser turret at the very edge of the curve around the room, while the other traversed a ladder rapidly. The sergeant directed his marines into a defensive perimeter around the doorway, remembering well their orders, to hold the line of retreat.

As the second engineer moved towards the upper levels, the sergeant looked to Jenkins. "You hold here. I'm moving to support."

"Are you crazy?" Jenkins asked frantically. "She said-"

"I know." He stepped forward. "Hold here."

Up the ladder, down another rounded corridor, past another phaser turret, another shield generator, another group of dead KDF warriors. There were at least two Gorn who looked like they had taken the phaser turret dead-on, one of them to the head. Had they simply charged at the turret in desperation? One lay on his back, twisted in place, and had he not been dead he surely must have had the look of hysterical laughing. A grim thought, which the sergeant now quickly pushed aside as he moved on towards the next ladder. He felt himself being compelled onwards by a rush of instinct, a sense of attachment, an intimate understanding between himself and this Andorian officer. He felt a kinship, a warrior sibling, present in this computer core like he hadn't felt in what felt like centuries. It pressed him to go faster, to climb harder, and he nearly missed the rung of the ladder in his haste. Then he stood at the top, took a few paces further down, and saw her.

The Andorian was huddled behind the edge of a bulkhead, the computer access just beyond across a narrow causeway. One of her engineers, the former Borg, was down, being tended to by the Saurian. The other had her pistol drawn and crouched at her side. The fifth was nowhere to be seen. Beyond the causeway stood two massive Gorn firing big disruptors, on either side of a petite green-skinned woman in a brass bikini. "We're taking what we came for," he heard her declare. "And there's nothing you can do about it, Starfleet." Then the rifle fire began again.

"Don't do it, Shep," he heard the Andorian yell. "Get back here." He looked up, but could see nothing. Somehow, whether using instincts or the reading from her antennae, she could sense her tactical officer's position. But where? He peered from around the corner to try to see where he would appear. He then heard a blast, definitely an arcwave blast, and watched as one of the Gorn fell forwards, down into the space between the causeway and the bulkhead. He saw the Gorn's reflective eyes and in them a look of complete astonishment. The Orion female turned, drawing a curved dagger, and plunged it into the space from where the blast had originated. There was a shout, a clattering noise. The remaining Gorn, along with a Klingon technician who had been out of sight this entire time, turned to help the Orion in her grappling with Shep, and the Andorian and her remaining engineer sprang into action. Opening fire, they caught the Gorn in the flank, causing him to tumble onto the Orion female. Then a burst came forth from the pulsewave again, and fell silent.

In the confusion, the sergeant ran past the Saurian, around the Andorian's former hiding place, and across the causeway. When the melee finally cleared, the Gorn's unconscious form had rolled towards the edge of the computer access area, while the Klingon technician's body, along with one other, lay out around the associated work station.

"I told him not to do that," the Andorian said as she rose to her feet and slung her rifle over her shoulder. "Damn it, Shep."

On the ground, his face relaxed and at peace, his dead body clearly visible, lay Shep. He bore the mark of not one, but three savage lacerations made with a nanopulse-edged dagger, which the sergeant could see still rested within a fourth wound. At the Andorian's feet, her hands bound behind her back by the human engineer named Aurora, rested the Orion woman on her knees.

"This isn't over," said the Orion.

"Oh, I think you'll find it is," the Andorian replied.

"Should we take her back to the ship, Captain?" asked Aurora.

"Get ready to move out."

A sudden rush of impulse caused the sergeant's head to swim. He felt himself raising his rifle, in spite of himself. He looked down at the Orion woman, who was staring intently, longingly, into his eyes. He felt a rage, a rising need to act, to sacrifice himself, to do something... but how? This was clearly the legendary Orion seduction at work, which men were powerless to resist, or so the stories claimed. It was causing him to feel compelled to free her from her bondage and then together, they would reign the universe as one.

He felt something cold touch his neck, then heard the sound of a hypospray against him. "There you go." It was the Saurian medic, Zed, pressing a button and releasing medicine into his system. "Pheromone blocker. Should take effect shortly."

The rising tide of panic and impulse receded as rapidly as it had begun, and he felt himself to be in control once again. The Orion snarled at him as he did, and wrestled against her restraints.

"Aurora, you and Octavia walk her out. Let's see if we can't get her a blanket over her or something."

"Aye, ma'am," Aurora responded, shoving the Orion across the causeway.

Zed stepped forward, concerned. "What about Shep?"

The Andorian knelt beside her fallen comrade. "I'll have to get in touch with his wife. We'll have to leave him here for now, until the whole station is secure. Let me get in touch with the Bonaventure, see how we're doing."

The sergeant heard his commbadge beep. "Go ahead."

"-Jenkins here, sir. We're being asked to re-deploy to the south side of the station, looks like it's just stragglers left."

"I'll be right down, and I'll be bringing our friends with us." He tapped his badge to deactivated it, and asked Zed, "So how should I introduce all of you to my platoon?"

Zed looked at the sergeant and smiled. "We're from the Bonaventure. I'm Lieutenant Zolnaen Didaggo. You can call me Zed. Everyone does."

"Nice to meet you, Zed," the sergeant replied with a wave of his hand. "But who is she?"

"Her? She's my commanding officer. Captain Twaiheak Sh'abbas of the Bonaventure."

"Call me Tw'eak," the Andorian said with a twinkle in her eye as she turned. "Everyone else does." She knelt back down again to Shep's side. "Give me a hand with him, please?"

* * *

_Captain's log, stardate 99104.6 - We were able to overcome the KDF strike team before they succeeded in stealing the classified research information they were seeking. While the damage to the station is considerable, they'll be able to effect repairs and resume their work. The impact of this mission upon my crew, however, will be significant. The death of Lieutenant Commander Shepard Clark, our tactical officer and ground warfare specialist, will be felt keenly across the ship. We are en route to Starbase 39 Sierra to deliver the station's crew, its researchers, and our prisoner._

In her ready room, Tw'eak took a moment after recording her log to lean back and think. There would be a memorial service for Shep Clark once they reached starbase, where his remains would be transferred to civilian control for the flight home. She found herself uncertain of what she should say. She and Shep had served together for almost a year, during which time they had never really been close. In fact, now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure what she would say at his funeral. It was customary for her to address the assembly, and she had already begun the process of lionizing his performance in the raid with a commendation in her written report, but it wasn't what she felt. _He got himself killed, _she thought to herself. _The United Federation of Planets regrets to inform you that your husband, LCdr Clark of the Bonaventure, died a pointless, avoidable, horrid death which allowed him neither the honour of glory nor sacrifice._

She stood and walked to the replicator to order herself a bowl of plomeek soup, a Vulcan dish which she had taken a liking to during her earlier, rebellious years, some of which she spent on that desert world learning the paths of logic and infinite diversity in infinite combinations. Shep had always been the more Andorian of the two of them on ground missions, one might say, led by a sense of what humans called gut instinct. This was never Tw'eak's way - she preferred to get a sense of the territory, analyze the threats, and then respond accordingly, with flanking tactics and overwhelming force.

The replicator whirred before her, and the bowl of soup materialized before her eyes, steaming hot. "No, no, computer," she said, "lower ambient heat of soup by thirty percent." She had forgotten to indicate her preferred temperature. There was more humming from the replicator, and the soup appeared to have cooled substantially. She carried the bowl and saucer to her desk, retrieved the spoon, and began to eat. After a few bites, there was a chime at the door. "Come in."

The door opened to admit the form of her assistant chief engineer, Lieutenant Aurora Doucette. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?" While Aurora typically seemed anxious and eager to please, her body language and the flushed look of her face indicated a greater anxiety than usual.

Tw'eak stood up. "Not at all. Please."

"Oh, I don't want to disturb you if you're eating."

"I may not get another chance. Would you like something?" Tw'eak took a quick look towards the replicator.

Aurora hesitantly stepped into the ready room, and the door whooshed shut behind her. "I'm not really hungry. I wanted to ask about today." She raised her hands. "I mean, I know you'd probably rather I went through Counselor T'uni, and I already have an appointment with her for tomorrow-"

"Relax, Aurora. What's on your mind?" Tw'eak took her seat. "Please." She gestured to another across the desk and slid the plomeek soup to one side.

Aurora moved towards the chair and sat down. "Well, it's just... I wanted to know..." She squirmed in her chair, as though the soft foam and carpeted surface were crawling with Klingon gagh.

"Commander Clark," Tw'eak inferred.

"Yes, ma'am. I just... you were so, I don't know... matter-of-fact about it."

Tw'eak smiled, putting her head back slightly. "A good commander always keeps her emotions in check, of course."

"No, I know... I guess that's why I'll never be a commander. At least not a good one, like you..." Once again, Aurora raised her hands. "I mean, all my commanders- oh, God..."

"No need to worry, this can be off the record if you'd like."

"Please? I'm really sorry. I just... that Orion woman. She really unsettled me. Bringing her back to the beam-out point, I could see the effect she was trying to have on everyone, and even with the shot Doc Zed gave me, I still felt... I don't know, scared of her?" Aurora looked down at the palms of her hands, facing up in her lap. "I just felt really ashamed, that's all."

"That's what she's counting on," Tw'eak offered. "She tries to use your impulses, your feelings, against you. It's her only strength. But they all do that, even the Borg." Tw'eak put her hand to her chin. "You've been on this ship for, what, six months now?"

"Five and a half, ma'am." Aurora's eyes lifted, looking at Tw'eak in a desperate way. "But it's been an honour, ma'am, and I-"

Tw'eak waved a hand in Aurora's direction. "Off the record. You don't have to keep doing that."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"I appreciate it, don't get me wrong, and I appreciate you doing your best today. But we all do the best we can in the face of our fears. It's what we have to do sometimes, especially in those moments when the situation seems darkest. You know how you feel, but you also know how you'd feel if you let anyone down who was standing with you in line." Aurora nodded. "That's what counts. That's what motivated Commander Clark. And it's what motivates me. And, I think, you too."

"Oh, absolutely. I always tell my sister, when I write to her, about how I am so afraid of letting anyone down. Way more than anything else, I just want to do a good job."

"And that's what makes a good officer." Tw'eak smiled at her nervous subordinate. She wondered for a moment, and asked, "How many sisters do you have?"

"Just one." Aurora smiled, anxiously. "Bianca, she's three years younger than I am, she's an astrometrics officer. She was just assigned to the Cavell last month. She's so excited to get to space. I hope she'll be okay."

"If she's anything like her sister, she'll be fine."

"Thank you, ma'am." Aurora stood, and Tw'eak did as well, following her towards the door. "Oh, I'm sorry- I meant to ask, do you have any sisters?"

"Two, well, one that's alive anyway."

"I'm so sorry." Aurora clutched her hands to her chest, accidentally tapping her commbadge in the process. "Oh, God, I'm sorry."

It occasionally concerned Tw'eak that someone as socially awkward as Aurora could make such a brilliant engineer, but she'd seen solid proof that the young lieutenant was better with machinery and equipment, even under enemy fire, than she was in contact with other people. "I came from a big family back on Andoria. There were nine of us, two _zhen_, two _thaan_, three _chan_, and me, the oldest, and the only _shen_." She closed her eyes and briefly remembered the faces of her brothers and sisters, and her mothers and fathers. "We were a big family, but while I was growin up that was sort of the way of things on Andoria. Anyway, I've lost three of my brothers, two of them in the war, one in a transporter accident. And one of my sisters, Sassil. There's just Thran and Ch'las, and my sister Dashii. And me, of course."

"Wow. Andorian families sound so complicated."

"I've been told that, yes. Two moms, two dads, and lots of little blue babies. We're complicated, almost uniquely so, but our children reap the benefits."

"Do you have any of your own, ma'am?"

"No, I..." She looked away for a moment. "I have a, well..." How to explain Sh'landas Syndrome without making this even more awkward? "I can't have any children. Medical reasons."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

The door chimed, and Aurora startled at the sound of it, so completely was she focused on Tw'eak and their conversation. As for Tw'eak, she was more unsettled by Aurora's rapt attention than she was by the door. "Come in, please."

Through the door stepped the sergeant, now in a standard Starfleet uniform. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he said quickly upon spotting Aurora.

"Not at all," Aurora replied. "I was just leaving." She nodded quickly to Tw'eak, then headed out.

Tw'eak stood, solemn, before the sergeant. He took a quick look down at his hands before he spoke. "I just wanted to say thanks. We'll be reassigned once we reach the starbase. We wouldn't have made it back without your help - at least, not in the shape we're in."

"And how are you holding up?"

"Well, now that's the thing..." He shifted from one side to another. "May I speak candidly, ma'am?"

"Of course." Tw'eak tried to hide a look of concern.

"You've heard the stories by now, I'd imagine, of 'redshirt' marines and other such personnel in the ranks."

Tw'eak smiled, broadly. "On many an occasion. I was one, remember."

"Were you now?"

"My first posting was as a 'redshirt' on the Venture - the old Galaxy-class Venture, not the current one. It was what provoked me to spec out as a space weapons specialist instead."

It was the sergeant's turn to smile. "I can well understand. A lot of my people... I mean, I know I'm not supposed to say anything, and I wouldn't want to mention any names - not officially, at least - but they were happy to get the posting at the research station, since it meant some time away from the action. And then it was 'redshirt' time again. They're wondering if any place in the Federation is safe anymore."

Tw'eak took a deep breath. It was a sentiment she'd been feeling for years. The threats always seemed to outnumber the strength Starfleet had to stop it. At least they weren't co-ordinating their efforts, seemingly working as much against each other as against the Federation. But the old soldier before didn't seem likely to be one for a wordy response, or an angry rebuke. For an instant, he reminded her a great deal of Shepard Clark.

"You tell your people... the Federation is only safe because of people like them. As long as there's someone who can hold a position, or shield a perimeter, or even just shoulder a rifle and stand in harm's way, then we'll always have a fighting chance." She smirked and added, "would we really want the scientists and engineers to have all the fun anyway?"

"No way in hell, ma'am," the sergeant replied, reassured. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't mention it." Tw'eak tilted her head slightly, and asked, "I never did catch your name anyway."

"Sergeant-Major Leo de Salaberry, ma'am. Second platoon, Delta company, 1296th Regiment."

The sergeant seemed to be standing at parade rest, so Tw'eak extended her hand. "Honour to have fought with you, Leo. "

Caught completely off-guard, the sergeant returned the handshake where he had been expecting to salute. While her grip was unexpectedly gentle, he could sense a strength which she wasn't using. He did his best to reciprocate, and relaxed considerably. "Likewise, ma'am." After a brief clench, he offered a salute, almost as much out of reflex as respect. Tw'eak returned the gesture, and he turned to make his way back to his platoon.

"You know, Sergeant, one of my fathers served in the two-oh-five. "

"Yes, ma'am , I know. I served with him for many years as one of his NCOs. He was a damn fine marine – and if I may be so bold, there's an old Earth saying… the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." He nodded and took his leave.

After he departed, Tw'eak made her way back to her desk, and her now-cold plomeek soup, which she carried to the replicator to warm up. Wondering for a moment about apples and trees, she considered the things she'd said, to the sergeant and to her engineer, and wondered if there was anything to them which would sound appropriate at the memorial service. And for a moment she started to wonder whether she believed herself what she'd shared with those under her command.


	2. Chapter 2

The reception area of Starbase 39-Sierra was larger than Tw'eak was accustomed to seeing. Her instincts were never comfortable in wide open spaces - too many angles to cover. Still, this was hardly the place for combat readiness. All the standard design elements were present - the sweeping curvature of windows providing a view of the fathomless depths of space, the random hodgepodge of weird glowing plants and starship models which adorned the interior, the never-quite-comfortable padded chairs built at angles no spine in the universe could accommodate, and the faint thrumming noise of generators and modulators creating atmosphere and ambient sound at the same time. Also present were the majority of her senior officers, save one in whose memory they had just commenced a moment of silence, along with Admiral T'Nae, the commanding officer of Starbase 39-Sierra, and representatives from her staff, and ambassadors from the Deferi people, the Romulan Republic, and the Federation. The ceremony aspect had been brief - well, brief according to the chronometer, perhaps. Tw'eak was quite anxious in the hopes that her remarks, which followed, would also be brief, without being hasty or rushed.

At the moment, Tw'eak was trying very hard to keep her antennae in check. It was bad enough with telepaths and limited-telepaths like Vulcans around the place, but there was a good reason why Andorians rarely played poker. Tw'eak had worked on mimicking a pose of control and calm during the year and a half when she had lived on Vulcan. Her physiology had made it possible for every logically-minded individual who encountered her to read her like her multi-systems display was right before their eyes. It had caused her no end of trouble during those turbulent years when she had run away from home to pursue a course of study as a plasmonic artist, but it had also taught her the benefits of emotional self-regulation and the need to keep herself in a constant state of balance. Still, her antennae were known to work against this from time to time, and she was terrified of the awkward social faux-pas which Andorians referred to as chial'va'shnan, "saying false below while saying true above".

The bosun sounded his whistle, and the company in attendance returned from attention. All eyes in the room fixed upon Tw'eak as she took a step forwards, beside a table festooned with flowers, upon which sat a padd showing a common sight - a service portrait of Shepard Clark in standard uniform. "I would like to begin by taking a moment to thank you all for coming," she began. "Thank you also to Admiral T'nae, for allowing us to use this space in order to say goodbye to our comrade in arms, our friend, Shepard Clark. Shep was an inspiration to all who fought with him, a warrior in the truest sense. His wisdom and his support turned the tide of many a battle, and his work onboard as our head of security and ground operations made him an invaluable and trusted source for leadership and support. The Bonaventure returns to its duties saddened by his loss, and while another qualified officer will stand the same post, none can take his place." She took a moment of measured pause, turning her head towards the portrait of Shep and then added, "You will be missed."

She bowed her head slightly, antennae rigidly held in place by an act of pure will on her part, and took a step back into place in the line. At the same moment, a musical interlude began to play, as all assembled stood and listened.

A reception with light refreshments followed. Tw'eak did her best to circulate as effectively as possible among the various members of the staff, becoming embroiled in a rather unnecessarily lengthy discussion about the importance of maintaining the proper balance in one's life with the Deferi ambassador. It was at this point that she noticed the Romulan Republic's representative, Subcommander Radin, standing by himself to one side, gazing out of the window. Excusing herself, Tw'eak stepped towards him, and he turned, graciously nodding his head in a sort of half-bow. His dark hair fell forward as he did, concealing a ridged brow that had been furrowed by the worries and cares of the difficult period since the destruction of Romulus so many years ago.

"I hope the arrangements are to your satisfaction," he said with a smile.

"The arrangements? You mean all this? It's fairly standard protocol."

"I meant the memorial, actually. I've been to a few Andorian memorials in my time. They aren't usually this sedate."

Tw'eak grinned, smoothing her uniform with one hand. "Well, nobody offered me an ushaan blade, so I figured I'd best not get my dress whites dirty." She tilted her head slightly. "Speaking of arrangements, how are your people settling in on mol'Rihan?"

Radin once again inclined towards a half-bow. "You honour me, and my people, by not using the Earther's term for it." His lips upturned into a sort of sneer. "'New Romulus'. The mouth revolts at having to make such a sound."

"It's my hope to come to see New -er, mol'Rihan sometime in the near future. As duty permits, of course. I should be grateful to have someone on hand who could show me around."

"Do see to it that you're inoculated against the effects of the passive radiation. It can be a little unpleasant if you encounter it."

"I'll be sure to."

"Good." Radin's face bore a thin smile. "But other than that, I should look forward to being on hand myself to provide such a tour. I would appreciate your assistance, in fact, with a bit of a problem we've encountered."

Tw'eak's antennae perked up. "What's that?"

"Tholians. I understand you have contacts on Nukara Prime who can provide gear that makes fighting them more effective."

"I have a bit of a reputation there, yes. But I think my crew can provide all the help you'll need." She turned and saw Octavia seated on a divan near the window, seemingly watching the bubbles cascading to the brim of a flute of synthetic champagne. The liberated Borg engineer made eye contact with Tw'eak, who waved her over. Octavia, otherwise known as Eight of Twelve, stood and walked with a pace both efficient and graceful at the same time. It was hard to picture her once having been part of the Collective, drudging about as a drone in the service of that relentless force. Aside from terrible facial scarring, and the remnant of an ocular implant which served as a replacement for her left eye, she would be indistinguishable from any other engineering officer in Starfleet.

"May I be of assistance?" Octavia asked as she reached her captain's side.

"I would like to introduce Subcommander Radin, who is here as a representative of the Romulan Republic."

Octavia extended a hand, yet Radin hesitated to take it. "You will forgive me, I hope. You see, my family were murdered by the Borg some years ago, during the assimilation of one of our colony worlds."

"I'm sorry, Subcommander," Tw'eak began, "but-"

"It's all right, Captain," Octavia said in a measured tone, her eye never breaking contact with Radin's. "I get this a lot." She took a sharp breath. "I deeply regret my actions in service of the Collective. I cannot escape what they made me, but I feel I must say that I, too, am one of their victims... at least, the person I was before this happened."

Radin's face softened, and he leaned forwards. "I don't understand."

"You see, once I was known as Lieutenant Mallory Jermyn. I was a botanist stationed aboard a science vessel, the USS Dresden, which was partially assimilated by the Borg. I resisted, along with the majority of the crew, but in vain." Her head dropped as she looked down. "They took me and altered me, as you see me now, and I served as a drone for a very long time, until by a series of events I neither remember nor understand, I was separated from the Collective and brought to full health in body, if not in mind."

Radin took a step towards her, his eyes darting about, examining her scars, her implant, the back of her hand as she brushed a strand of hair aside from her face, revealing more scar tissue around her right eye. "You see," Tw'eak continued, "Octavia - as we know her today - is no longer the person she once was. She, too, in a sense, was murdered by the Borg."

"But how does she know who she was?" Radin asked. "Or should be, perhaps I should say."

"The best way I can explain it," Octavia responded, "is to use a computing metaphor. It is as though the information is present behind a partial firewall in my memory. I know it is there. On occasion I can access it, subconsciously, but I cannot reach the fullness of my memory. What I know of my former self, I know through having read my biography, having reviewed my former logs, once I was freed from the Collective. While I am conscious of the details, they are simply facts with no meaning." She turned towards her captain. "I suspect you had other motives in calling me over than to discuss those facts, Captain."

"Yes, I was going to ask you - the Romulans' new homeworld seems to have a bug problem."

Octavia looked at Tw'eak incredulously. "Would this not require an entomologist instead?" she asked.

"No, no," Tw'eak said with a laugh. "Big bugs. Tholians." She looked to Radin, who was chuckling. "I would like you to work with the Subcommander to provide them with a supply of sonic antiproton rifles and assault weapons."

"Of course," Octavia responded. "I will return to the Bonaventure and commence replication immediately."

"Wait," Radin said, raising a hand. "I am profoundly sorry for misjudging you before. I have... we have more in common than you know. For I once owed my allegiance to the Tal Shiar, and my people have been their victims as well as their accomplices - willingly, as was my choice, or otherwise. So I know something of your regret, and I have dishonoured myself by speaking so sharply to you earlier." Once again, Radin took a half-bow, this time extending a hand, his palm upturned. "I request your forgiveness before we proceed."

A look of confusion overtook Octavia, and she gazed exasperatedly at her commanding officer. Tw'eak raised her hand and, looking at Octavia's arm, gave a come-hither gesture. Octavia lifted her arm, and Tw'eak turned her wrist gently, then placed her hand upon his. "It's a Romulan thing."

"I understand," she replied, as Radin took her hand in his. "Interesting."

"Thank you," Radin said as he released his grip. Octavia gave a brief nod, and then took her leave. "I must apologize to you as well, Captain. To have impugned the honour of one of your officers-"

"One of my best officers, in fact. But it's all right. I lost at least one of my brothers on a ship that was destroyed fighting the Borg. I can understand your reluctance to trust her. But her service record - as an engineer, I should add, not as a science officer, using skills that she's developed since being assimilated - that service record, as Octavia... is impeccable."

Radin stood with his hands behind his back. "I would also like to state my appreciation for your efforts on behalf of my people, and our homeworld. Not since the days when we left Vulcan and set about unto the stars under the raptor's wings have we been so alone, and so abandoned by fortune. The Elements have preserved us, for better or worse, but with you and your mighty Starfleet among our allies, we will endure, and come to thrive on mol'Rihan. I thank you."

"It's cause enough for concern no matter who the Tholians are bothering. After all, they don't go anywhere in those environmental suits of theirs without a reason of either salvage or conquest. It's pretty far from the Assembly's borders, so it must be something worth having, from their perspective. And I intend to see to it that they can't have it, whatever it is."

Radin smiled proudly. "As do I."

"So I think we can do business together. We'll be leaving port in a few hours. It won't take Octavia that long to get those armaments together, so feel free to drop by around, say, 1900?"

"I will certainly do so."

Tw'eak thought of something, and then added, "And be sure to stop by the arboretum when you do. There's something you should see."

Radin gave a look of surprise. "What's that?"

"Flowers. Thousands of them, in a nearly constant state of colour and bloom." Tw'eak looked after Octavia. "Her work. You see, she's still part Borg, but she's also part botanist underneath it all. She's developed what I like to call 'nanite bees' to keep the flowers in a continual cycle of growth and regeneration. And the results are breathtaking."

"If we could utilize technology like that to improve food production on mol'Rihan... I must see this."

Tw'eak smiled as she remembered something. "Just don't go near the roses. She gets a little defensive about them."

"Ah, are they not working out as well?"

"On the contrary. They're every bit as beautiful. But they're not part of her experimentation." Tw'eak's smile saddened a bit. "She requested that her regeneration alcove be installed there, but she planted rose vines that grew all around it, so that it blended into the room. And the roses she grows there are part of her rehabilitation program. They're how our ship's counselor is trying to put her back in touch with herself." She looked up, aligned her antennae, and her face resumed a congenial expression. "I'm glad we had time to talk, Subcommander. Thank you for attending."

"Indeed, it has been my privilege, and the Republic's gain." Radin looked off down the path Octavia had walked when she left the room. "And a most illuminating experience as well."


	3. Chapter 3

_Captain's log, supplemental. Our business on Sierra concluded, we have been ordered to the Pi Canis sector block and engage any Klingon patrols we should encounter. The Bonaventure is certainly ready for action after the past few days, but I can't say the same for myself._

Tw'eak tapped her desktop display to close her log entry and sat back for a moment. It wasn't in her nature to feel so conflicted in her sense of duty. She had lost count of the number of combat actions, patrols, and missions she had undertaken, but for some reason the past few days since the memorial had proven difficult for her. It wasn't because of Shep, although he had been a good officer and a capable combatant in his own right. She tried to narrate it to herself, what her issue was at the moment.

The door chimed, and Tw'eak jolted herself from her thoughts. "Come in."

Into the room stepped a short female Vulcan, with dark hair grown long enough to conceal her ears, and a slender chin that ended in a distinct point. This was her ship's counselor, and good friend, T'uni, whom she had known briefly during her time on Vulcan and whose services she had insisted upon when she took command of the Bonaventure. T'uni stood with her hands clasped before her a few steps inside the door, which whooshed shut. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"No, not at all. Please come in." Tw'eak stood up from her desk and moved to a seating area on the other side of the roughly triangular ready room. "I was just thinking of calling you."

"It would have hardly been necessary," T'uni replied as she took a seat in an armchair, perched upon its edge. "As ship's counselor, I am, as you know, responsible for monitoring the ship's morale as well as the competence and efficiency of its officers."

"And one of us isn't up to her usual self lately." Tw'eak sat down on a two-person couch, drawing up a knee so she could lean on the armrest. "Yeah, don't I know it."

"You have spent an unusually high proportion of time in your ready room. Given that much of the crew has taken to shore leave or other functions during our time at Starbase Sierra, it is surprising."

"Well, a good captain tends to her ship first and foremost."

T'uni arched an eyebrow. "A good captain would also tend to her own emotional needs. It is... logical."

Tw'eak tilted her head slightly. "How- did you just say it's logical for me to be emotional?"

"Are you being emotional?" T'uni asked after a beat.

"I was just thinking to myself... I almost pulled up my own service record in order to check and make sure I'm still who I think I should be. Maybe someone's playing with the timeline on me or something, but I should be able to handle this better."

"Your service record is immaterial. After all, I have known you for longer than your service record would indicate, and I would concur. It is unlikely for you to show the tendencies towards rash outbursts and unpredictable behaviour sometimes associated with your people - as a relative statement, of course, since you are certainly capable of impulsive behaviour."

Tw'eak gave a sour look. "Yeah, sounds like me."

"I can assure you, I meant that as a compliment, as your impulses tend to be correct. But not always. Shall I remind you what your reaction was when your youngest sister decided to move to Nimbus III rather than join the Academy?"

"No, thank you, I remember it well." Tw'eak had been furious with Dashii at the time, but thanks to a few strings pulled, her admission had been deferred a year for "circumstantial reasons". What really had happened was that Dashii had fallen in love with an Andorian privateer whose operation was based on Nimbus, Qaz Ch'nall. Tw'eak had taken (some would argue stolen) a shuttlecraft from the starship she was serving on at the time, the USS Nelson, and gone to Nimbus herself to retrieve her sister. It had proven to be for the best, since Qaz disappeared six months after Dashii's return to the Academy, and never been heard from since. It had also cost Tw'eak a promotion to full lieutenant - at least for a month, until she had nearly been killed protecting her captain from a Klingon ambush. But her reaction, however impulsive, had come hard on the heels of the death of their other sister, Philla, somewhere in the Ker'rat system, and brought the two surviving sisters closer together than they had ever been in their younger days. "Believe me," Tw'eak continued, "I don't need any reminding about my weaknesses."

"I would disagree. They are not weaknesses. They are traits. Your passionate demeanor and your intensity of purpose are indistinguishable from your sense of identity. You would not be Tw'eak without those things. It is a credit to your strength of character that you are able to harness those traits to your strengths. Like all good captains, to borrow your phrase, you push yourself harder than you would anyone else in your service."

Tw'eak raised a hand. "So where does this weird feeling I keep having come from, then?"

"I apologize, but I would require more specific information about your feeling than that it is 'weird' in order to be of assistance."

"I mean this... I don't know, this feeling I have, like I don't want to be a part of this war anymore. This isn't what the Federation is supposed to be about."

"Is this a question pertaining to temporal mechanics?" T'uni asked.

"No, no," Tw'eak replied, waving away the question. "I mean the meaning of the Federation, of Starfleet. I can remember, years ago, when I was just an ensign, and I was stationed on the Enterprise. It was the happiest day of my life. The refit had just been completed and we were on our way. To be out there on the edge of known space in the flagship of the Federation... Do you know that was the only time I ever saw the Romulan homeworld? Of course, shortly after that, Praetor Shinzon came after us, and I almost got sucked out into the Bassen Rift when the hull breached... but while the Enterprise was in spacedock again I was assigned to another Sovereign class starship, the Nelson, where we did some real, honest exploring of space for a couple of years. The way the Federation used to be, you know?"

T'uni shook her head. "There has never been a period of peace in the Federation exceeding the twelve years between the end of the initial conflict with the Cardassians and the re-emergence of the Romulans just before the Klingon Civil War. To idealize the Federation's past as you are doing is a revisionist fallacy."

"I know that, and I know how much more rugged things were than I'm remembering it."

"With the exception of the Enterprise-A and -B, for example, all others were destroyed in combat, either with the Klingons, Romulans or-"

"Yes, I know all that." Tw'eak's brow furrowed. "What are you, a history professor all of a sudden?"

"My point is that a longing for a fictitious or otherwise non-existent time in the Federation's history is typically an indicator of dissatisfaction for the present-day Federation, notwithstanding the possibility of temporal displacement, which we had previously eliminated from further consideration." T'uni raised a hand, pointing in the upwards direction she was looking and speaking. "The ideals of the Federation, clearly, would appear to be the standard by which you are judging Starfleet's current mission, which is geared more prominently towards defensive actions and the liberation of lost territory rather than the scientific exploration of the known universe." She made eye contact with Tw'eak. "Am I correct?"

Tw'eak grimaced. "Are you doing this to try to provoke a reaction out of me?"

"That depends on whether I am being successful." T'uni arched her eyebrow again, with just a hint of something Tw'eak could almost believe was a smile.

"Absolutely."

"Then I should advise you that, as your counselor, I am a valued part of the crew and an integral part of our mission."

"You're afraid I might indulge in some typical Andorian traits right about now, then?"

"Captain, please. Fear would constitute an emotional response."

Tw'eak smiled at T'uni. "Yeah." Her smile faded as she thought of what her friend had said. "'An integral part of our mission', you said..."

T'uni continued as though still engaged in banter. "Of course. A counselor's job is to support the mental and emotional well-being and health of all crew members onboard."

"And how would you define that mission?" Tw'eak asked sharply.

T'uni adjusted her shoulders, and clasped her hands together. "The definition of the ship's mission is a captain's prerogative." Tw'eak was silent for a moment, so T'uni added, "Captain."

Tw'eak's eyes darted sharply, and her antennae angled inwards. "There was a time when our mission was to 'seek out new life and civilizations', to make first contact based on the Prime Directive, to explore the frontiers of space. Now we just shoot to kill and let the universe sort itself out."

"This troubles you."

"You're damn right it does. Shouldn't it?"

"The Federation cannot effectively explore a frontier which is contested, nor safeguard its own civilization and seek out new ones at the same time."

"But this isn't any different from before. You said so yourself."

T'uni tilted her head. "I believe you are misinterpreting." She took a short breath. "Not since the Earth-Romulan War, not even after the Breen attack on Earth during the Dominion War, have there been so many threats at once to the very heart of the Federation. It is incumbent upon us, as Starfleet officers, to defend that heart, as well as all other component parts of the Federation as a whole."

"So war becomes an imperative."

"On the contrary. Defense becomes our imperative, and defense in strength against all threats, for we do not dare show weakness to any of the enemies arrayed against us." T'uni counted off on her fingers. "The Klingon forces seek territory. The Tal Shiar are reportedly abducting civilians and freighter crews for purposes we cannot know. The Dominion and True Way continue to be a threat, as do the Breen and the Tholians. To say nothing of the Borg, the Undine, and the countless other threats yet unknown which lay in wait."

Tw'eak stood, anxious in the face of this cadence of adversaries. "So what? Why us? That's what I want to know, T'uni. Why? Why did they strike like this?"

Sensing a moment, T'uni leaned in. "Why did who strike?"

"The... That Orion. Did you read my report?"

T'uni nodded. "I debriefed our prisoner on the way to starbase. My report has been completed and submitted directly."

Tw'eak sat back down again. "You must have found out something good. What were they after?"

"It took some doing, including a mind probe, which I deeply regret. However, I was able to ascertain that their target related to a development of a specific type of refracting tetryon beam weapon."

"Really. They came all that way for a tetryon beam?"

"Not precisely, captain. Theta-112 was a weapons lab, albeit a classified one. What I was more interested in discovering was who, if anyone, had provided the Klingon forces with its location. I was most disturbed to discover that a network of Orion spies has infiltrated our entire research organization. I was able to learn the names and identities of several of these individuals, and have forwarded that information to Starfleet Intelligence without awaiting your approval."

"I can understand that. Anyone aboard ship that we should keep an eye on?"

T'uni seemed to be uncomfortable, if that was possible for a Vulcan.

"T'uni? Is there someone on board?"

"I am sorry, Captain, but I have been ordered by Admiral Quinn not to advise you of the names of any of the affected personnel."

Tw'eak sat up. "Sorry, what? If there are people on this ship who are working for the Syndicate, I have a right to know, to protect-"

T'uni raised a hand. "Once again I must state that I find your passion for the well-being of your crew to be agreeable, yet I believe you misunderstand my reluctance." This settled Tw'eak, allowing T'uni to continue. "Let me put it this way. There was no need for infiltration of this vessel when several prominent organizations around the Federation had been compromised."

Tw'eak's antennae flared outwards, her eyebrows raised, and her jaw dropped. "You what..?"

T'uni adjusted her uniform tunic. "Let me just say that when I discovered one admiral's name on her mind, I sought other names, and found them." She shook her head. "This particular Orion seems to have been a particularly distrusting mistress, as she made the considerable mistake of preserving all the important information solely in her memory."

Tw'eak was still in shock. "You don't mean...?"

T'uni made eye contact with her captain, her face a look of one who has been insulted. "Really, now, Captain. The Letheans or the Tal Shiar would have been far less... gentle in their methods than I was in mine. To say nothing of the Obsidian Order."

Now it was Tw'eak's turn to arch her eyebrow. "Should I ask?"

The look of an almost-smile once again crept upon T'uni's face. "For a species with traits that include a violent temper, a sensuous seductivity and a cunning spirit, she was neither very physically strong nor resilient in her mind."

"Really."

"Indeed. I can assure you that no ethical boundaries have been breached, however." T'uni briefly touched a finger across her lips, then added, "What began as a simple debriefing quickly became an attempt on her part towards seduction. This I was able to rebuff easily thanks to the provided injection, so I was able to probe her mind in close contact without succumbing to pheromonally-induced response. Yet there was an unexpected side effect of probing her mind. For every attempted interaction, her mind somehow mistook my probing for sensual pleasure. The deeper I sought to probe, well..." T'uni trailed off, seemingly a bit embarrassed.

Tw'eak's eyes opened wide. "You mean you seduced an Orion woman?"

"Essentially. I intend to write a paper on the subject for Alien Physiology and Psychology over the next few days. I found the entire experience rather stimulating."

"Sounds like you weren't the only one," Tw'eak added. "I'll have to read your report." She stood and moved towards her desk. "In the meantime, it's good to know that our little ship isn't important enough to draw the attention of the Orion Syndicate."

"And you, Captain?"

"What about me?"

"May I speak freely?"

Tw'eak turned around. "Of course."

"I suspect that your sense of duty is shaken in large part because your sense of whether or not the mission was 'worth it' has been questioned. The violent and avoidable manner of Lieutenant Commander Clark's death without any clear answers seems to be the common thread."

"You're probably right. It's logical." Tw'eak thought to herself that she must be feeling better if she was talking like a Vulcan.

"And if I may be so bold... I do not believe that you truly ever lost heart in the fight, in the defense of the Federation, despite what you may have thought you believed. Had Clark followed your instructions and withdrawn, his death would not have felt so senseless. You are not to blame for his choice of tactics, nor are you responsible for the lives of the others who died in the assault."

Tw'eak leaned against the desk with both hands. "I know."

"It would be a further irresponsibility, as well as an illogical action, for you to continue to hold yourself aloof from your crew. They will continue to be precisely who they are - from each according to their gifts - and your leadership will continue to inspire and motivate them towards appropriate and conspicuous deeds of note well into the future."

"Thank you."

T'uni stood up. "I shall take my leave, for now." She turned just before she reached the door. "I hope to see you on the bridge, Captain."

"Thank you, T'uni. I feel a lot better."

T'uni gave a little nod, turned, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

_Captain's log, stardate 99110.2 - We are on station in the Hromi Sector. Our sensor sweeps are ongoing, but so far it's been pretty quiet. As is always the case for a captain on these sorts of missions, I don't think it will be for very much longer._

The bridge of the USS Bonaventure was indistinct from hundreds of others Tw'eak had seen, and served upon, during her time in Starfleet. Still, what made this one different wasn't the shade of the carpets, nor the contours or layout of the various workstations. It was hers. Well, perhaps not in the possessive sense - it was her responsibility, certainly, but to imply that it belonged to her was a reversal of polarity. She belonged to it, to the ship she commanded and the crew she relied upon to make that ship what it was.

To her right along the wall were the engineering and science stations, with the flight deck station directly next to her command chair. On the left side of the bridge, extending behind her, were auxiliary and shield distribution stations, along with a tactical station to her immediate left. Just in front of that was a seat typically reserved for T'uni, currently empty, with the unoccupied first officer's chair to her right. And before her, between herself and the viewscreen, sat Octavia at the operations console, and Ensign Nolan O'Leary, her helmsman. The light in the room was an ambient blue, the overall movements of her officers expedient, but without anxiety. The flight board showed that the runabouts were moving in patrol formation, holding a combat perimeter as per standard procedures. Tw'eak looked the other way, to see the tactical display and full-size multi-systems display both showing the situation as normal.

Just then her eye caught a flutter of red in the corner of the tactical display, and her sensors officer, a young Bolian lieutenant named Birmal Dazz, spoke in her soprano tone. "Captain, I'm reading weapons fire around a ship roughly... ten thousand kilometres to starboard, let's say two o'clock?"

"Can we get a fix on what's going on?"

"Trying to, ma'am, but there's a bit of static flutter, maybe a gas pocket or a tachyon field between us and the target."

She turned to her flight officer, a tall auburn-furred Caitian called Lieutenant Lio'wan. "Order Alpha Flight to move in close - yellow alert, passive scans, don't draw any attention."

"Yes, ma'am," came Lio'wan's burly voice in reply.

Once again, Dazz spoke up. "Target appears to be under attack by two - no, make that three adversary craft. Trying to make out what they are, I don't know why I can't get a clear reading yet."

"Helm, increase to full impulse." She turned to her tactical officer, Lieutenant Morl, a Tellarite. Morl stood considerably shorter than Shep Clark had, but he was engaged by his console. "See if you can hail them, Morl. Make challenge - warn them off."

"Aye aye. Attempting to hail them..." Morl tapped at his console. "No response."

"Yellow alert." She stood and walked towards the helm. "Take us in, but be prepared to take evasive action at a moment's notice."

"Aye," O'Leary replied. "Full impulse towards vessel under attack."

Tw'eak turned at the sound of Lio'wan's slightly panicked voice. "Alpha Flight reports that there's a field of tricobalt mines ahead." He tapped his console. "They're holding off. Do you want them to engage the mines?"

"Negative. Order them to withdraw behind us. We'll punch through." She turned to Morl. "Ready the point-defense."

"Point-defense online and ready."

"As soon as we're within range, initiate point-defense program."

The upgraded Akira-class starship approached the minefield, the Yellowstone-class runabouts parting their formation to allow it to pass. As they did, they rapidly turned upon their positions and tightened their formation again, pursuing their mothership towards the mines. As they did, a series of small, precise phaser beams sprang forth from the Bonaventure's arrays and beam banks, detonating the tricobalt mines with a savage display of explosive force. None of the smaller ships, or the Bonaventure, were adversely affected.

"Report," Tw'eak commanded.

"No damage to hull or ship's systems," Octavia reported. "Shields holding."

"Dazz?"

The Bolian nodded. "I'm starting to see them more clearly now, ma'am, and it makes sense. Passive sensor blocking from the attacking ships - they're Hirogen heavy escorts."

"Hirogen?" Tw'eak was surprised. "They're from the Delta Quadrant. What are they doing here?"

"I don't know, ma'am, but I've also gotten a reading on the ship they're attacking. It's a Breen vessel."

Tw'eak stood up at her full height. "This is damned peculiar."

The turbolift opened, admitting her first officer, Commander Tucker Sharpe, onto the bridge. He walked over towards his commanding officer with a look of concern on his face to match Tw'eak's. "I just checked in with Doc Ellington - sickbay's ready. What's going on?"

"There's a Breen ship being attacked by Hirogen."

Sharpe looked disbelievingly at Tw'eak. "You're kidding me." He glanced at the viewscreen for a moment, then asked, "Is this a simulation?"

"No drill," Tw'eak responded. "I was just saying... neither of them really have any right to be here."

"I know - one's not usually seen out this far, and the other's from the Delta Quadrant."

Dazz interrupted "Sirs, one of the Hirogen escorts is breaking off its attack. It's laid in an intercept course."

"Any other minefields or anything else between us and them?"

"No, ma'am."

Morl spoke from behind his display "Their weapons are fully powered. Their shields are weakened but steady at about sixty-five percent."

"Try hailing them again."

Morl tapped his workstation, and the familiar chime of an open hailing frequency rang out. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

"Red alert." She looked to Lio'wan. "Order Alpha Flight to engage. Launch Charlie and Delta when ready." She didn't wait for Lio'wan to acknowledge before turning to her shield distribution officer, a young Vulcan called Ensign Stral. "I want you to keep close eye on those shield facings. They'll probably be using tetryon weapons - you know what that means." Stral nodded, and she turned to O'Leary. "All right, bore in on them - stay at full impulse until we've had a chance to get past them. We'll let the fighters keep this one busy while we move towards the Breen vessel."

"And what if the Breen vessel opens fire on us?" Morl asked.

"It's a fair question," Sharpe added. "They could be just as unhappy to see us."

"It's a chance we'll have to take," Tw'eak replied as she turned to walk back towards her command chair. "They're shooting at the Hirogen for now. If that changes, so will our tactics."

"Here they come," Dazz said quickly as a bolt of bright blue tetryon weapons fire lit up the viewscreen. The impact followed, and the ship rocked slightly from side to side. Tw'eak had just sat down when the first burst struck, and she looked up towards Stral, who was busy re-distributing the shield energy to compensate.

"Shields are at seventy percent," Octavia reported. "No damage to hull or systems."

"Morl, return fire. Phasers only - let's save our torpedoes for the other two. Full spread once we're in range. Let's draw them onto us."

The high-pitched report of the phasers firing was audible, matched with a sound effect from the console as Morl opened fire. The Hirogen attacker sped towards them on the viewscreen, then disappeared from view as the Bonaventure swept past. She turned towards Lio'wan, who gave her a quick nod as confirmation that he was managing his tasks. "Flights Charlie and Delta are now launching and engaging Alpha target."

"Good." She looked up moments later as a shudder in the deck and a notifiying sound from Morl's console indicated that a full spread of quantum torpedoes was launched at both targets before them. One of the Hirogen ships initiated a quick maneuver, attempting to evade the torpedoes, while the other seemed oblivious to their launch. Tucker Sharpe returned to his chair beside her as the torpedoes struck the less speedy of the two, and the impact caused the ship to ignite into an explosion, rolling as one of its warp nacelles burst from the impact. The other of the two opened fire on the Bonaventure with its tetryon energy weapons, the blast rocking the ship only slightly. "What happened, Morl?"

"We caught that one ship with its shields most of the way down. The Breen ship did that, we just..."

"We got lucky." Tw'eak smiled. "Status of our other two targets?"

"Alpha is keeping its target busy, with Charlie and Delta supporting," Lio'wan reported.

"The other target is evasive, possibly trying to disengage from combat," Morl added.

"Do we let them go, or should we stay on them?" her first officer asked

Tw'eak looked at the viewscreen, her eyes narrowing. "Morl, hail the Breen ship. Advise them of who we are, and ask if they require any assistance."

"Aye."

"O'Leary, turn as if in pursuit, keep our fore weapons on them, but if they're fleeing, let them go." She turned to Sharpe. "If they're going, they're too few and too small to make it all the way back to the Delta Quadrant on their own."

"Suppose they're not. Maybe they're just scouts for a larger force."

"If they're like the Hirogen I've read about? Probably. But we can't engage any larger force as it is - best to report this whole incident to Starfleet before we go running off after them."

"Captain, I'm getting a response to our hails," Morl stated.

"On screen."

The interior of the Breen ship was a pale yellow, almost amber colour. At first glance, this was not what Tw'eak had expected the interior of a Breen cruiser to look like. But she recognized, at the edge of the screen, the distinct shape of what appeared to be a thermal distribution unit. Puzzled, she stood up. "This is Captain Twaiheak Sh'abbas of the Federation starship Bonaventure." She looked at Sharpe, confused by the empty viewscreen. Sharpe shrugged and shook his head. "Do you require assistance?"

She watched the viewscreen intently and nearly fell over as a Caitian pounced into view. His fur a bright orange, wearing a jaunty blue coat with golden epaulettes while his right eye only remained concealed beneath what appeared to be a black fabric patch attached to a band which ran around his head, he looked nothing like a Breen warrior. Tw'eak heard Lio'wan give a low rumbling growl at the sight of him.

"That depends," said the Caitian. "Be ye friend or foe?"

Tw'eak was unimpressed. "We just engaged a swarm of Hirogen vessels that were attacking you."

"To what purpose, I ask ye?"

"Figure it out."

"You'll be the one doing the figuring, madam - figuring out how to recover after the impact of a Breen energy drain!"

"I... who are you, anyway?"

"I am the captain of the Swordfish, as we call this here, our vessel. Ye may call me Selkirk Rex, pirate king of the stars!"

"Pirate?" Tw'eak sat up in her chair. "You're not serious."

"Aye. For it takes a pirate to catch pirates, madam! And 'tis my hearty crew's mission - to commit acts of piracy against slavers, privateers and freebooters alike in the name of freedom!"

"I'm not sure I understand. You're engaging in acts of piracy-"

"Aye."

"-against Federation citizens-"

"Enh, mostly Orions and Romulans."

"-against Orions and Romulans, using a Breen ship-"

"Hmph, Breen ship -those Orions stole it from them. We stole it back. Haven't seen any Breen to give it back to. Fair is fair."

Tw'eak closed her eyes and shook her head. "And how have you not all been killed yet?"

"Well, I..." The Caitian pondered for a moment, then grinned broadly. "We're finer pirates than they, is all!"

"Well." She gave a quick look towards Morl, and tapped her neck. At her signal, Morl muted the channel. Tw'eak turned towards Sharpe. "We just saved a crazy person."

"I don't know what to say," Sharpe replied. "Committing piracy is against Federation law, and Starfleet regulations, but this isn't quite the same as that."

Dazz took the opportunity to provide an update. "The Hirogen ships are well gone by now, ma'am. Just a blur on sensors because of their jamming fields."

"Recall all flights, Lio'wan. Launch Echo Flight to provide combat recon. Wide arc, report back on any sensory anomalies that could be the Hirogen returning."

"Aye," Lio'wan said in reply, his voice still resonant with disgust.

"Open channel, Morl." A quick couple blip noises, and the channel opened again. "Captain Rex..."

"Selkirk. Rex is me title. As pirate king, y'see."

"I... understand." Tw'eak felt herself growing impatient. "Are you in need of any support, or repairs?"

"Well, to be honest, if ye have any Breen onboard, we could use a quick look at our life support, but other'n that, a pirate will never say die!"

Tw'eak noticed Octavia giving a quick glance back over her shoulder, incredulous, as she continued. "Let me offer this, then. Allow me the, um, privilege of parley with you, captain to captain, while a damage control team from my ship takes a look at the life support, and whatever else you may need."

Sharpe sat bolt upright. "Captain, what are you-"

Tw'eak silenced him with a raised hand, then stood. "I will come along in order to personally vouch for my people's conduct. If they do anything more than they're asked, or offend your crew in any way, I shall willingly become your prisoner."

The entire bridge crew stared intently at Tw'eak. At least a couple jaws were dangling. "Can we discuss this, ma'am?" Sharpe asked.

Tw'eak turned towards her first officer and spoke quickly and quietly. "We need to earn his trust. At the first sign of trouble I signal for a quick beam-out."

Lio'wan, whose Caitian hearing was better than most humanoids, spoke before Sharpe could get a word in. "Impossible, ma'am."

Tw'eak looked up at her flight deck officer. "What?"

"Sensor scans from Delta Flight indicate that there are several overlapping transporter inhibiters set up across multiple decks. In fact, they'd have to turn one off to let you beam over."

Tw'eak straightened up, realizing her error. Whatever impatience she had felt was being rapidly replaced by a sincere dread. She turned back towards the screen, struggling to hold her antennae and facial expression impassively, to see the face of Selkirk Rex was beaming brightly. "I accept your terms! We shall permit your boarding on your conditions immediately!"

"We'll be right over. Bonaventure out." As the screen blinked out, Tw'eak collapsed into her command chair.

"Somehow I don't think this one's in the command staff handbook," Sharpe said softly.

Tw'eak stood again, composing herself. "You're on watch until we get back. Octavia, signal the engine room. Have them send a damage control party to Transporter Room Two immediately."

"Aye, ma'am," Octavia replied, then leapt out of her chair. "Requesting permission to join the damage control team."

Before Tw'eak could respond, she heard her first officer say, "granted." Tw'eak turned to see Sharpe sliding into the command chair. "And I will override you if you say anything. She's going with you. If anything goes wrong over there I know she can short-circuit those inhibitors and probably do a thousand other things to their systems in order for us to mount an effective rescue."

"The commander is correct," Octavia confirmed with a slight smile.

"All right," Tw'eak conceded, "join the party." She then looked to Sharpe and added, "have Doc Ellington send Zed to meet us. They might have wounded over there."

"Won't adding a medic be against the terms of the arrangement?" Morl added.

Tw'eak took a quick look towards the Tellarite, realizing his point. "It's a risk I'm willing to take." She turned to Octavia, nodded her head towards the turbolift, and headed towards it. "You have the bridge, Sharpe."


	5. Chapter 5

The command deck of the Swordfish reminded Tw'eak of the interior of a meat locker. It was dimly lit, cold even with the addition of thermal generators blasting heat and glowing a bright orange on each side of the room. She found it quite comfortable. There were steps towards a series of consoles above, more consoles arrayed around the half-circle of the main deck, and a few doors leading off to turbolifts or other small rooms. All around a series of crew members, most of Federation species but also a Reman and a Gorn, were busy at work tapping out their commands, occasionally using wrist communicators of a Romulan design to talk to others around the ship.

Tw'eak had beamed in at a point on the far side of the ship, and now arrived on this command deck via the turbolift, accompanied by Octavia, who had beamed over some hours earlier with the damage control team. They had put together an initial report for their captain and kept working away, as had Zed, who was tending wounded and injured crew on a lower deck and had been continuously since beam-in. Despite Octavia's duties elsewhere, she seemed unwilling to leave Tw'eak's side. They hadn't seen much on their walk to the command deck, and Tw'eak had sensed they had walked around the same corridor section a couple times, passing the turbolift more than once before being allowed to use it. The two guards who had accompanied them, one before them, the other behind, rifles at the ready, now stopped and took position on either side of the door to the lift. Going back the way they came would happen entirely if they wanted, and not otherwise.

The smell of the room was inhibited by the low humidity and sharp, cold air. IT reminded Tw'eak of the way the air felt in her lungs when she was home, on Andoria, but this air was poorly conditioned by the faulty life support systems, which had been built for Breen and not for other humanoids. From one of the side rooms emerged Selkirk Rex, clad in a decorated blue greatcoat sporting massive gold epaulettes, a series of medals and markings in red, green and purple, and huge brass triangular buttons holding the two sides of his coat closed. He also wore bright blue gloves, and matching boots, seemingly to keep out the cold. At the belt of his coat hung a vicious-looking Nausicaan sword, and behind him swayed a bright orange tail, as was typical for Caitians. Behind him, from the doorway by which he had emerged, came two more armed guards.

"Welcome, captain," Selkirk said with a flourish of his hand. "Our vessel is honoured by your presence."

"Indeed. May I introduce my operations chief, Lieutenant Commander Eight of Twelve."

"Please, call me Octavia."

Selkirk took a step towards Octavia, his eyes darting over her form. "I am honoured and grateful for your assistance." He turned to Tw'eak. "May we speak privately, Captain? I would seek your advice on a few... matters of state, shall we say?" He smiled graciously.

"I'm sure together we would be better able to provide that sort of advice," Tw'eak replied, anticipating Octavia's likely objection to their separation.

Selkirk's eyes went wide. "Oh, I must insist."

Tw'eak raised her hand and cut the air before her in a slashing gesture of refusal. "Anything you have to offer is something I would want Octavia to be briefed on regardless."

Selkirk looked from Tw'eak to Octavia, then back again, his tail twitching in a wide arc. "Well, I suppose if she can be trusted... pirates never trust easily, but under the circumstances, all right." He turned to a Bolian officer at his left and pointed at Octavia. "Let me know if ye find her engineers in any place they shouldn't be. 'Twill be the airlock for the lot of them if ye do." The Bolian nodded, and Selkirk walked back up the steps and back through the door which he'd entered the command deck.

Tw'eak and Octavia followed him into a small, narrow room with several glowing engineering components and a console clearly visible. "You'll have to excuse the lack of appropriate seating. Breen don't really believe efficiency can be achieved through sitting, it seems." He stood at the far end of the room, against a wall, his voice audibly different - less bombastic, more weary than she had noticed before. He continued, waving a hand around the room. "Or, for that matter, much else. This is the access for the computer core. I've taken to using it as a ready room. Best we have. You should see my quarters."

Tw'eak nodded, her antennae in a pose of uncertainty, feeling out the room and getting a sense for her fellow captain. She looked towards Octavia, who had a report. "My damage control engineers have completed an initial systems analysis of the Swordfish, and the results are unexpectedly poor. A great deal of the warp core's output is being channeled into shields and weapons, to say nothing of powering the transporter inhibitors which you have installed. Altogether, this has caused numerous EPS manifolds and relays to burn out. These relays are apparently now being rotated to avoid burnout, but this only delays the problem."

"We can't afford to replicate new ones," Selkirk replied, a hand extended upward. "We can't even afford the power to run the replicators. The Chel Grett class of cruisers is surprisingly underpowered for its size - it's essentially a flying cannon designed around the energy dissipation system. Which, I should point out, your scan doesn't seem to have noticed no longer works."

Tw'eak noticed a change having come over Selkirk. The swagger, the bluster, the overall volume and presence, had completely changed since they entered the room. His tone was more sincere, even self-effacing in a way. Having just called his own bluff from earlier, he now lifted his eyepatch to reveal a perfectly healthy eye underneath. "So you're in trouble, then," she noted.

"We have been for weeks." He unbuttoned his coat, then placed it on a jagged hook-like chunk of damaged metal on the wall. "We've been lucky to make it that long."

Octavia took a half-step, intending to continue her recitation, but Tw'eak interrupted her with a raised hand, then asked, "What's your plan, then?"

Selkirk looked down at the coat on the floor, then back up at Tw'eak, despondent. "I hadn't thought of one yet."

"You what?" Tw'eak pointed towards the door. "There are at least two hundred people aboard this ship."

"Three hundred, actually. And another six hundred across three other ships. I know. But they all believe in Selkirk Rex." He looked over at the coat where it hung on the wall. Tw'eak began to understand that all the grand gestures, the costume, the bravado... all this was nothing more than stagecraft. This Caitian was no pirate, though he looked, talked and acted the part.

"I don't understand. You're telling me you have a fleet of these Breen ships?"

"No, this is the only one we have. Haven't had it two months yet. Most of the other ships we've had for a while. One is a support ship, a Gorn vessel, Varanus-class, that we liberated from a shipyard at Ganalda. We call it the Whale. Closest thing we get to a shipyard - and we always have to keep it one step ahead of whoever's trying to kill us this week. But it's what makes our operation possible. The other two ships we have left are a beat-up old warbird that runs the risk of becoming a black hole any day now, and a D7 older than a Vulcan's granny. We use them to steal supplies. One guards the Whale while the other steals provisions, either by raiding or by cloaked beam-out and stealing. It's the best we can do."

"So you're a lot thinner at the base than it looks."

"Of course. We've lost ships... good people... But the ones that still serve, they're ones we've freed, sometimes even ransomed back only to be told they'd rather stay with us. They believe in this idea. There are a lot of good people, every day, that just vanish into space. The Federation wasn't doing anything about it, so I left."

"You were in Starfleet?" Tw'eak asked.

Selkirk stood straight up, his tail as if electrified. "Well, now hold on. That depends very much on who's asking."

"The Selkirk Rex is one of several breeds of Earth animal known as the domestic cat," Octavia reported. "The name itself has never been used in any Caitian records that I could find in my search of the Federation database, only as an Earth animal."

"And how about Kwazii, then?" Selkirk asked. "Lieutenant Kwazii, of the starship Alexander. If you want me serial number I can give ye that, too." He pointed towards Octavia. "You look him up. Science officer, xenobiologist. Killed in action stardate 99002.4 or so. A few weeks after his mate, and his kits, were murdered by Nausicaans on their way to..." His voice began to quaver, and he broke off.

"They killed your family," Tw'eak reasoned, "so you left Starfleet... this is about vengeance?"

"Not vengeance- I've already gotten that. The Nausicaan crew that killed my family had a ship. It was my first prize. It was lost in action against the Gorn forces that tried to stop me from stealing the Varanus, along with some good friends who had become her crew." He twirled a hand around the room. "And this ship was in the process of being salvaged by more Nausicaans when we took it into our custody, along with another of their ships. And on and on it goes." He continued to use his hand to direct his actions, as though planning an assault with them. "We look like pirates so the pirates feel threatened by us. They come after us, but we're more than they can handle. We use their ships or we destroy them - it hardly matters, they're not our objective. The slave barges are what we want. When we can find them, we raid the slavers, free the captive, add to our numbers. Some want to go home... they're free to go, we can sneak into any port in the Republic easily and let them off. Some want to fight back, but there's three rules if you're in me crew - no vengeance, no respite, and no surrender."

"But you said it yourself - you got your vengeance."

"Aye. Was able to infiltrate their ship without their knowing, used a point-to-point transport device to get on board from another freighter they raided. They didn't know I was there, like a phantom, slowly stalking them over the course of the week that followed. Idiots. Nausicaans are easy to kill. Aggressive, unruly... you just lie in wait until they get their guard down and... pounce!" He leapt forward, unexpectedly, clearing most of the space between himself and Tw'eak. Octavia rushed in between them, but Tw'eak took a step backwards, then placed her hand on Octavia's shoulder.

"You killed an entire Nausicaan crew that way?" she asked after settling Octavia.

"No, no - just in the engine room. I sealed it off and decompressed the other decks. It was much cleaner that way. Then I hailed that freighter and asked the crew to help me repel the Nausicaan boarding parties, and join my crew to ride and fight again. That freighter captain was none too happy to watch most of his crew beam over, believe me." He shrugged. "But that was how it started. And when they asked me who I was, I couldn't tell them. I needed a nom de guerre, a pirate's name. At first I just called myself the pirate king, and I knew calling myself Tiger or Sehlat would make it obvious I wasn't who they thought. I was a xenobiologist, remember. Selkirk sounded a reasonable name for a Caitian, no odds what your database says." His eyes looked off into the distance. "Seems a lifetime ago now. Has only been eight months!"

"But why not contact the Federation? Why not seek help?"

"Bah! Federation. Diplomats and prime directives... they're about as much good as a hairball in your throat, fighting pirates." He shook his head, his facial expression disgusted. "When I suggested to the Alexander's captain that we go after the Nausicaans, he refused. Said it was too dangerous. Could you imagine? The captain of a Sovereign class starship and he's hiding behind regulations! I had to take action!" He briefly, intently raised a clenched fist before his face. "Any help from you lot would only mean a lot of lectures and wasted time - and the chance I'd be in the stockade for this instead of out on the frontier where I'm needed." He took a few steps away from Tw'eak, turning his back upon her as he did, then looking over his shoulder and raising both hands towards the ceiling. "I'm safe out here ...from all of it."

Octavia chose this moment to add, "Judging by the scale of repairs required, and the number of your crew who are not capable of functioning efficiently as crew due to wounds, injuries and psychological trauma, it would appear that you are not as safe as you would imagine."

"Oh, not safe for ever, never safe for long." Selkirk turned back towards them, lowering his arms as he did. "But for today, we are."

"What will you do from here?" Tw'eak asked. "You can't carry on like this forever."

"No, you're right. In fact, I'm kind of disappointed that you intervened when you did." He gave an ugly grin. "You see, I had intended to go down fighting against those Hirogen. The best I could come up with so far was to go out in a blaze of glory, let the legend spread, maybe others would rise where we had fallen. We picked a fight earlier with a group of three Nausicaan ships - I guess word is spreading of who we are because the one whose engines we disabled chose to self-destruct instead of run the risk of being captured. Which is fine. Nausicaans are easy targets, so are Orions. But we weren't expecting Hirogen. And we've found out quite a bit on this patrol about what the Tal Shiar are up to in the Devron sector."

"Like what?"

Selkirk leaned forward and said, softly, "Elachi."

Tw'eak shared a confused look with Octavia, then looked back to Selkirk, confused. "What's that?"

"Not what, but who." He reached behind the computer core access terminal and pulled out a Starfleet standard-issue padd, which he handed to Tw'eak. She activated it, and saw a sensor scan image of a vaguely triangular-looking ship, with tabular components facing both fore and aft. "We have several Romulan Republic personnel among our crew - and I had to see this ship of theirs with me own eyes before I believed the story they told. These creatures live in subspace. And they're abducting Romulans - and Remans, too, to be sure."

"What for?"

"Nobody knows. One says they're the Tal Shiar's minions. Another says they're some other creature's minions. And the one, she's convinced they're harvesting the abductees for food." He shuddered visibly at the prospect. "If there was anything worse than being a Borg, that'd be it."

"You would certainly amend that statement had you ever been assimilated," Octavia countered in a flat tone of voice.

Selkirk's ears went back a bit. "Sorry." His voice perked up a bit as he said, "if we were stronger we could've done something about what happened to the Vega colony. It tears me apart to think that we're not taking the fight to the Borg more than we already are." He put a hand to his chin. "Something like my organization, only bigger... between all the races, stop the Borg once and for all."

"You've never heard of Task Force Omega, then," Tw'eak replied. "We could certainly use one to counter the threat of slavers and piracy." She smiled at Selkirk. "I can imagine you'd be a prime choice to lead such a task force."

"Oh, no," Selkirk said with conviction. "I'll never go back to Starfleet."

"Well, if you won't come back to Starfleet..." Tw'eak said while taking a few quick steps in a small circle, "then maybe Starfleet should meet you halfway."


	6. Chapter 6

On the bridge of the Bonaventure, Commander Tucker Sharpe remained on duty. "All right, I give her another five minutes."

"You don't think she can handle this?" Morl asked.

"I have every confidence in our captain's ability to handle this, Lieutenant." Sharpe took a quick look at his bridge officers, realizing that he wasn't the only one who didn't believe his words, before adding, "let's review our options."

"I've run a full sensor scan," Dazz reported. "I can pinpoint within fifteen metres everyone on that ship with a commbadge. We can't beam them out, but I can at least get a sense of their biosigns."

"What do you have?"

"Most of them are clustered around the engine room, and one or two of them are on the command deck." She offered a skeptical, what-did-you-expect sort of look.

"I think I can take down their EPS system with a few hits from the main phasers," Morl outlined. "That would disable their transporter inhibitor field. Based on Dazz's sensor scans, it looks as though they-"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," Sharpe interrupted. It was an abrupt transition, as though he'd changed his mind.

"But sir, you said 'give her another five minutes'. Until what, if not to disable them and get her back?"

Sharpe seemed to be scrambling for an explanation. "I was going to... hail the Captain... ask how it's going. That was all." He slunk back into the command chair. "Never mind."

"I see." Morl looked over to Lio'wan, whose face was also unimpressed. "Never mind, it is then." His console made a familiar noise, and he pressed a button to respond. "Incoming hail from the Breen ship."

"On screen."

Tw'eak and Octavia appeared next to the Caitian pirate. "Sharpe, send over another damage control team on the double. Same beam-in point. And ask Doc Ellington to send a triage team."

"Is everything all right?" Sharpe asked.

"Yes, but our new friends need help, and we're going to give it to them."

"May I remind the captain that aiding or abetting anyone engaged in acts of piracy constitutes a violation of-"

Now it was Tw'eak who interrupted. "I'll explain later." She gave a quick look at Selkirk, then returned her gaze to Sharpe. "I'll also have Octavia forward you a list of parts - mostly for EPS relays and inertial dampening fields, along with some life support systems stuff."

"I don't understand."

"Beam those over as soon as you can, preferably with the teams. Senior officers, meet me in the conference room in fifteen minutes. Dazz, if you can have Astrometrics pull up a system map, please? And Morl, threat analysis of every Hirogen ship we're currently aware of them having available."

Sharpe looked somewhat exasperated. "What's the plan, Captain?"

Tw'eak took a step backwards on the screen before her face took on a wan smile. "We're going hunting."

Having returned to the Bonaventure, Tw'eak looked out the window of the conference room. Along the same side of the room, under the curved windows looking out onto space, sat Commander Sharpe, Morl, Lio'wan and Dazz. Tw'eak took her seat at the head of the table, while Octavia, who had only just entered in a bit of a rush, sat to her immediate left. Aurora, her combat engineer, and chief medical officer Doctor Shirley Ellington were also present, and to Zed's left, at the back of the room, stood Selkirk Rex and two of his officers.

"All right," Tw'eak began, "Selkirk Rex and his people have been scouting this system for the past couple weeks. Selkirk?"

Selkirk stepped forward from his crew and spoke. "We've reason to believe that there's a Hirogen base in the orbit of a gas giant, the sixth planet of the system. It's probably got some sort of sensor masking system built in around it, so it'll look blacker than a pirate's beard."

"That's interesting," Dazz remarked. "When we arrived in-system, I charted a gravimetric anomaly around the seventh planet, not the sixth." She tapped the buttons on the desk in front of her and called up a map of the system holographically over the table. "I've marked its position here, in red." Sure enough, over the seventh planet in the system hovered a red pyramid. "The planet has a single large moon, class-D."

"The anomaly appears to rest approximately at the planet's L3 Lagrangian point, directly opposite Mylasa VIIB." noted Octavia.

"It's exactly where you'd expect to find a secret base," Sharpe added. "Easy access, minimal power for orbit... pretty convenient."

"And that's just what we're going to do," replied Tw'eak. "Find their base, then take it out."

"We would be best to take an approach from below the planetary ecliptic," Morl offered. "Coming in at an oblique angle would work against their sensors. And our use of the planet's atmosphere will give us a similar advantage to what they will enjoy."

"Agreed. Dazz, can you counteract or work around their sensor jamming at all?"

The Bolian sensors officer leaned back in her chair, pensive. "It's very high-band. If I can filter out the jamming signal and look for specifics - alloys, power signatures, grav fields, something - then I can probably get us a reasonably good long-range picture of their numbers. The downside is, I can't do that passive."

"The question is, can a runabout do it?"

"Easily," Lio'wan interjected. "It's more or less their job."

"How easily can they put up a similar jamming signal?"

The burly Caitian considered for a moment, then answered, "It would be more easily done by putting a jamming suite onboard in place of the standard module. A couple of modified runabouts, flying together, could jam a whole strike force."

"I don't want them to jam a strike force, I want them to emulate a Hirogen ship."

Lio'wan looked at Tw'eak, realizing she was serious. "I don't know if we can."

Octavia turned from Lio'wan to Tw'eak. "Theoretically, more runabouts with jamming suites could work together and look the part. But it would depend on what Dazz uses in order to track them - we would want our tracking signal to match theirs in all aspects."

"Of course," said Sharpe, "but who's to say that it's going to work?"

"It probably won't," Lio'wan responded. "And that leaves some of our pilots hanging on by a claw."

"We'll all be hanging on - and for what?" Sharpe turned towards Tw'eak. "I recommend we call in reinforcements. A Starfleet task force could handle this more easily than we could."

"Our orders are to patrol the Mylasa system, along with the Pi Canis sector block generally. We're going to carry out our orders. Besides, in the time it takes for Command to organize and launch the attack, they could've relocated their base."

"Aye," Selkirk added. "And these Hirogen aren't like other pirates. They're hunters. They're seeking prey. They'll be more dangerous to take down than a Capellan power-cat, especially if this is their only lair on this side of the quadrant."

Tw'eak nodded. "We'll be striking in conjunction with Selkirk Rex's forces. Our plan is to make our way past the asteroid belt, then work around by using it to mask our approach. From there, our two ships will work separately - the Swordfish will co-ordinate while the Bonaventure moves in for the main assault."

"Do we have any idea of the opposition?" Morl asked.

"At least two of their heavy escorts, probably at least one ship the size of a cruiser or bigger."

Morl tapped out a sequence to bring up a holo-display of his own, further down the table, showing the few known types of Hirogen ship in the Federation database. "I would expect that large ship to be approximately twice our length, numerous tetryon beam weapons, either chroniton or tricobalt torpedoes. They won't commit to a fight with it, so we should make it our priority target. Disable its engines, then destroy or capture it."

"Agreed." Tw'eak turned to look at her assembled officers. "Anything else?"

Lio'wan half-raised a hand, then asked, "How do you want me to co-ordinate flights?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'm thinking that I'll want at least one flight for recon, simulating a jammer as we discussed, to get an idea of what we're up against. The other flights can either provide us with close support or defend us against any enemy fighters that we come up against."

"All right. I'll allocate the flights and brief the pilots."

"I suppose I'll get sickbay ready... again," Doctor Ellington added.

"Thank you." She looked to each of her officers in turn, most of whom inclined a quick nod or half-smile in acknowledgement. Tucker Sharpe, however, did not meet her eye, biting on a knuckle on his hand. "Sharpe?"

Sharpe looked up. "No, nothing right now."

"All right, then. Let's make it happen. Dismissed."

The officers returned to their stations, singly at first. Selkirk took a step towards Tw'eak and Tucker Sharpe. "I'll return to the Swordfish and get our forces in position. We'll be ready in an hour, maybe two."

"Good," Tw'eak replied. "About the repair teams..."

"I'll make sure you get them back."

"No, what I meant was that you should keep them onboard. The triage team, too. Do you require a hand at tactical, or with anything else?"

"Not really. Lots of my people have the experience, they just want it to count for something." Selkirk glanced out the window, his ears rising proudly. "This is their chance."

"Agreed. Good hunting."

"Likewise, Captain." Selkirk turned and found his officers, who made their way out.

After a moment longer, Tw'eak positioned herself half-seated upon the sill of the window. Sharpe had still not met her eye, standing more or less aloof next to the chair he had occupied sulkily throughout the mission. "All right," she opened. "Out with it."

He neither turned nor moved. "Out with what?"

Tw'eak fought to keep her temper. "You've had the disposition of a Talarian hook spider ever since I got back onboard. Clearly there's a reason why. So, permission to speak freely is granted." She stepped intentionally forwards, into his line of sight, and stared into his face. "Out with it," she repeated.

"I have nothing further, ma'am."

She took a half-step towards him, even closer to his face. "I said out with it, mister."

After an agonizing moment, he turned his head to look into her eyes. "Nothing further, ma'am." His eyes had a hardened, cornered expression, and his jaw was clenched tightly. "May I be dismissed?"

"You object to the plan."

Sharpe looked away again. "Not at all."

"I appreciate that you kept your objections to yourself in front of our crew, and our guests, but still-"

Sharpe winced at the mention of 'guests'. "So that's what they are."

"Who?"

"Our 'guests'." His eyes had a sharpness about them. "They're pirates, ma'am. I refuse to work with pirates."

"Selkirk Rex is hardly a pirate."

"Oh really? Had me fooled." Sharpe's voice was a bit louder, and a lot more angry, than he probably intended it to be, but Tw'eak didn't let this bother her.

"He's doing this to liberate slavers' cargo holds, to stop the pirates."

"Isn't that nice." The sarcasm was unmistakeable.

"Sharpe, the man lost his wife and children to pirates. He's doing this for them."

Sharpe's eyes narrowed, his face turning towards Tw'eak's with a look of bitter rage. "And my family, ma'am? What about them?"

"I don't understand."

"I can't believe you'd be willing to trust them to the point of assaulting a target alongside them. This starship would make quite a prize for them. This crew, as well."

Tw'eak was incredulous. "Sharpe."

"And they'll just wait until we've done the lion's share of the fighting, when our shields are down, and we'll be sitting ducks."

"Sharpe. Our people are on their ship, too."

"Not for long. These are pirates." He pounded his fist into his hands. "And this? This is a trap."

Tw'eak shook her head. She knew an ambush when she saw one. "What makes you so sure?"

"Hirogen ships? Sensor jammers? Breen vessels with Caitian captains?" Sharpe counted along on his fingers, then threw his hands in the air exasperatedly. "It's like something out of a bad holo-novel."

"I know what it looks like. I believe his intentions are honourable, but I trust him about as much as he trusts me. That's why I've informed Admiral T'nae of our plan to attack the Hirogen base alongside them."

Sharpe broke off from his rant and looked up at Tw'eak. "You have?"

"Of course I have. And she approves. But I couldn't tell him that," she said, gesturing after the door through which Selkirk Rex had exited. "He doesn't trust Starfleet. Half his crew are deserters or freed slaves who served in Starfleet, and they don't want to go back." Tw'eak took a step towards the window and gazed into the distant ether on its other side, pointing for effect. "If anything goes wrong, there'll be a small task force of five of our ships just outside the system standing by to warp in and support us." She lowered her arm. "It's the best that the Admiral could offer on short notice. But if we run the risk without relying upon them for help, and we shut down the Hirogen, well... it might just earn us Selkirk's trust."

"And if we can't?"

Tw'eak turned her head towards her first officer without making eye contact, her tone flat. "Then those ships out there have orders to engage all non-Starfleet targets in-system... and destroy them."


	7. Chapter 7

_Captain's personal log, stardate 99112.1 - All of our preparations for the upcoming assault on the Hirogen position are being completed. Starfleet Command is awaiting my signal in order to commence monitoring our attack, in case their support is needed. In the meantime, I find myself once again in a state of uncertainty, worse than I've experienced in years. I don't know why, but in the event that this is the universe's way of telling me to be careful... I certainly am._

Tw'eak tapped out the subspace frequency, and hesitated for a moment. Just tap the button, she thought to herself. The idea of her being this timid during a moment of crisis on the bridge in the upcoming action shamed her, and she felt a dark blue blush of embarrassment over her face. She leaned towards pressing the button, then flinched again. Why? Was it the thought of acknowledging what was to come? What if nothing was to come? What, exactly was her problem? T'uni was right - she always pushed herself too hard, but in this case she felt she was right to do so. There was no reason to hesitate. And so, chastened by her own lack of ability to be reasonable, Tw'eak pushed the button.

"Please re-enter the frequency you wish to access," the computer objected.

Tw'eak shook her head, her shame becoming frustration. She tapped it out again, this time feeling the computer to be at fault for timing out on her attempt to access the frequency. Her antennae flared wide, her facial expression displeased. In an instant, the computer terminal flashed to an interior view, showing the quarters of her sister, Dashii. Out of uniform in pink sleepwear, she looked as though she had just been woken up.

"Whoa, _shi_, what's going on?" Dashii said at the sight of her sister.

"What?" Tw'eak realized how she must have looked. "Oh. This terminal is giving me problems."

Dashii smiled. "You never could work computers." She leaned backwards to make a quick check of the chronometer. "I don't go on shift for another hour, in case you were wondering." She gestured towards her outfit. "Kind of early to be calling me, must be important." Biting a finger, she looked to be deep in thought, looking off for a moment. "So..." Her eyes returned to meet Tw'eak's gaze. "Don't tell me, you finally met the man of your dreams."

"Was that joke ever funny?" Tw'eak asked, an eyebrow raised. She had seen it coming.

"Where are you registered? Are your kids going to be pink-skins? Have you told anyone else in the family? _Shreya_ is going to be thrilled!" Dashii's bubbly voice dissolved into giggles.

Irked by the thought of calling their _shen_-mother for any reason, Tw'eak changed the topic. "How are you adjusting to life aboard the Majestic?"

"I knew it. You were just calling to check in. Here I was hoping you had good news. Would've been a nice change from the boring life out here in the Teneebia sector."

Tw'eak pointed at her sister. "You better be on your best. Took a big favour to get you that posting."

"I know, I know, and I'm doing fine. I just got my first performance rating back from Commander Thompson and he gave me an 8."

Tw'eak's pointing finger became a hand upturned in disappointment, expecting more. "Just an 8?"

"Hey, an 8 is not bad. But it's not my fault. This stupid Tellarite idiot of a lieutenant keeps insisting on having me balance the shields using lateral flow, but I can get them balanced more effectively - and quickly - if I let the shield energies flow through an enveloping matrix instead." Her hands came around to enmesh themselves together before the screen. "Like that. Not as choppy. It goes against the flow of the shield energy to use lateral but that's the way he wants it. So my balance doesn't happen as fast."

"Why doesn't your Tellarite lieutenant know that?"

"Oh, he does. Because I've told him." Dashii's tone took on an exasperated tone again. "But he's typical Tellarite, you know? Doesn't listen. I think he's speciesist, personally."

"Dashii! That's a terrible thing to say!"

"But it's what you'd expect, right? Typical pig-headed Telly." She shook her head. "I wish you'd gotten me onto a ship with an Andorian crew."

"There are no ships with Andorian crews anymore. They're from all across the Federation. You know that."

"Well, you couldn't get me a posting with the Imperial Guard?"

"I'm not in the Imperial- look." Tw'eak could feel herself growing more impatient. "We're on the verge of going into combat. I can't get into specifics. You know how it is."

"Must be something big. Maybe you need a shield distribution engineer." Dashii made a cute face. "Even if she only rates an 8 for performance."

Tw'eak closed her eyes and continued her thought. "I don't feel good about this mission, _zhi_. I'm worried."

"Is there anything that you can tell me about it?"

"Not much - there's a formation of hostiles out there, not sure how many, and we're going to ambush them. We'll be joined by some new allies, possibly of questionable loyalty, and it might be a trap."

"Sounds like fun," Dashii replied.

"I'm worried. We just lost our tactical officer last week, and we're a little short-staffed in a couple departments. Morale's fine, no major concerns from the crew, and our plan is tactically sound. I should know, I came up with it."

"Have you tried checking in with any of your senior staff, see if they agree?"

"No, and maybe I'm just being irrational for not wanting to risk it. It's just useless feelings, that's all." She shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it."

"It's Andorian intuition. Don't you remember when _thavan_ used to explain it to us?"

Tw'eak nodded. "The way the ice would know before you did what was about to happen. Yeah." She well recalled all the hunting lessons one of her fathers had imparted to her, along with many tales from his lengthy service in Starfleet. His teachings had always served her well, and been a comforting reminder of his presence, which, like with Dashii, she found herself missing and longing for in the last few hours.

Dashii continued. "How you had to listen, and trust your senses, in order to hear what the ice was telling you. Maybe that's all you're doing."

"But there is no ice out here - I mean, aside from comets and such. It's not the same thing." Tw'eak considered it for a moment. "Is it?"

"I don't really know. But I always trust my intuition. It's never led me wrong."

Tw'eak smiled at her _zhi_. "Except for that one time."

Dashii shook her head. "I knew you were going to say that."

"And that other time."

"Twaiheak, stop it." Dashii raised a hand. "Sometimes I go against it, too." Her hand turned into a pointing finger. "But sometimes you go along with it, too." She leaned forward, lowering her hand. "And maybe this time you should."

"All right. I'll take a look at the plans again. There might be something we've overlooked. Maybe they're not just useless feelings after all."

"Good. I'm glad I helped. You're sure you don't need a perfectly good engineer onboard? I can learn how to use a warp engine, or a microspanner, or whatever..."

"It'd take too long to get the paperwork together. I doubt Starfleet would let sisters serve together anyway, even if you could probably benefit from my shining example."

"Yeah, and learn the properly Starfleet way to get your own antennae stuck up your-"

"As you were, Lieutenant." Tw'eak smiled brightly at her sister.

"Yes, ma'am," Dashii said, her hand offering an over-embellished attempt at a salute.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say that, if I'm right or wrong, regardless of what happens, if this turns out to have been a bad idea..." Tw'eak's voice became more emphatic as she spoke.

This prompted Dashii to interrupt. "Wow, no wonder you haven't talked to your crew about this."

"Let me finish. Look, whatever happens, I'm proud of you. Whatever mistakes you made, you've come back from them, stronger than ever." She felt herself blushing again. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I'm not worried. Look at me." Dashii moved her head into the frame so her face nearly took up the whole thing. "I'm not worried. This is my older _shi _that we're talking about here. If it was Philla, I'd be worried. But I'm not. Am I?" She tilted her head down so that Tw'eak could see two relaxed-looking, eager antennae. "See? Not worried!"

"All right, all right, fine." Tw'eak raised both hands in resignation. "I get it. Just remember, okay?"

"Honestly, if you come back in one piece, I'm going to be more upset at this point. I should kick your butt for talking like this."

"Wouldn't be the first time you've tried," Tw'eak pointed out.

"Yeah, well... look, I'm on shift in about an hour, I gotta get myself around to looking like the responsible lieutenant you're so proud of. I'm not worried. See? Not worried. Love you." Dashii stepped away from her terminal to get dressed.

"Love you too, _zhi_." She smiled and closed the channel, then immediately pulled up the plans for the coming attack. Her smile hardened and her mouth became a thin line as she began to scrutinize the plan as though it was a tactical problem at the Academy.

On the bridge of the Bonaventure, the atmosphere was tense. The bridge officers - Sharpe, Morl, Dazz, Lio'wan, O'Leary, Octavia and Stral - all worked diligently at their stations, programming and ordering their various inputs through the computer system. Tw'eak watched the screen, showing the approaching asteroid field. Ahead of them were fanned out some thirteen Yellowstone-class runabouts - nine of them in a flight loosely connected by sensor contacts, casting a wide net in the hopes of finding something worth drawing the Bonaventure's attention, while another four flew in close formation near their mothership, waiting for the moment to activate the high-band jamming field that their sensor suites had been specially fitted to do.

"Anything?" she asked Lio'wan.

The big Caitian shook his head. "No contacts yet."

"I've laid in a course along the interior edge of the asteroid belt. We should be able to use some of the bigger rocks to mask our energy signature."

"Let's plan to do that anyway," she said with a nod to Morl.

"Standing by," Morl replied.

"Hail the Swordfish, if you would."

"Hailing frequencies open."

The face of Selkirk Rex appeared on the screen, apparently distracted, his one visible eye darting about. "Ahoy, matey!"

"Just wanted to wish you good luck."

"Aye, and likewise to you. Last chance to turn back!"

Tw'eak smiled. "Not a chance. Bonaventure out." She caught sight of her first officer trying to get her attention with a glance, but she decided to look away instead, towards Octavia, whose console was beeping.

"We're within the outer veil of the asteroids. Attempting to compensate navigational deflector."

Octavia looked up sharply, towards Dazz. "Are you reading-"

"Multiple targets ahead!" Dazz announced suddenly. "Some sort of small cased metal objects."

"Call Alpha towards us - all stop." She looked over towards Sharpe. "A minefield?"

"The objects ahead are not mines, ma'am," Dazz advised. "Not sure what they are, but there are a number of them in the gap we've marked as our approach vector."

"Point-defense is a bad idea," Morl advised. "Not until we know what they are." His console beeped, and he added, "Incoming hail from the Swordfish."

"On screen."

Once again, Selkirk Rex became visible. "What's going on?"

"Our advanced sensor pickets are detecting something odd. There are a series of metal cased objects in the gap ahead."

"Well, only one way to deal with them."

"You're going through anyway?"

Selkirk's face didn't change. "Aye. Nothing a little extra shield power can't handle."

"I'm not willing to take that risk."

"Right. Well. Best of luck on your way and we'll be on ours. Swordfish out."

The screen returned to showing the asteroids, and the aft starboard quadrant of a Breen cruiser speeding away. "Is he nuts?" Sharpe asked.

"Either that or he'll get through just fine because he knows they're there."

"Well, good idea using Alpha as a forward picket. Might have just saved our ship there."

"Sensor analysis of the objects, ma'am," Dazz interjected. "They appear to be linked together in a network of interconnected pulses. I'm not sure what they're for, but-" Her console began making a series of noises. "I'm reading some sort of dense electromagnetic field ahead. It appears to be... oh no..."

Tw'eak stood up, alert. "Dazz? Report."

"Energy levels on the Swordfish are dropping rapidly. They're dead in space."

"It appears that the objects are aceton assimilators," Octavia added, "working in concert to absorb all power generated by the Swordfish." She turned and looked at Tw'eak. "They aren't working that hard, either, Captain."

"So there would have been room enough in that trap for two of us." Tw'eak nodded grimly and said a silent word of thanks to her sister for the idea.

"Orders, ma'am?" O'Leary asked from the helm.

"Put Alpha back out front. Scan for any place in the asteroid field that those things aren't, and then bring everyone in and punch us through."

"What about the Swordfish?" Morl asked.

Tw'eak considered this for a second, with a quick look towards Sharpe. "Recommend we leave them be," Sharpe said once his eyes met hers.

"Unless that's their plan," Tw'eak added.

"Contacts!" Dazz shouted. "I've got two blurry vectors on an intercept course with the Swordfish. The signatures match Hirogen jamming fields."

"We can't take two of those ships on our own," Sharpe said, standing.

"No, but we can't leave our people exposed, either." She looked to Octavia. "Any way to neutralize those assimilators?"

"Not that I can see. Any weapons energy we used against them would be simply absorbed away. We might be able to try using a wide-angle tachyon beam to overload them."

"Worth a shot." Tw'eak turned to Lio'wan. "Order Alpha lead to use main deflector to emit a tachyon beam on the nearest aceton assimilator."

"It'll take a couple minutes," Lio'wan responded.

"Our people on that ship don't have a few minutes."

"Right," Lio'wan growled, turning back to his console. "Alpha lead has signalled. They're configuring main deflector now."

"Morl. If this works, can you configure our deflector to do the same on the entire field?"

"I suppose I can, but-"

"Do it. The moment you do, O'Leary, I want full impulse. Punch it right through on the course the Swordfish had laid in."

Sharpe moved into Tw'eak's view. "May I remind the captain that there are two Hirogen ships on the other side of that asteroid field, on an approach vector, probably with weapons armed and ready?"

"No need." She stared down Sharpe for a moment, then returned to giving orders. "O'Leary - once we're past the Swordfish, I want maneuvering thrusters only. Nothing hot. Make 'em think we're the Swordfish trying to break through. Lio'wan - recall Alpha and have Bravo stay right with us, every step of the way. Slave their controls to ours if they have to. I want that jamming field active the moment our impulse engines cut out. Morl - you'll mask our energy signature at the same moment."

"In theory, this should permit us to slip past the aceton field while remaining out of the Hirogen sensors," Octavia inferred.

"Precisely." Tw'eak looked at Sharpe. "Let's turn their traps against them."

"Nicely done," Sharpe replied.

Tw'eak looked up at Lio'wan, who was smiling fiercely. "All right, people, let's do this."


	8. Chapter 8

The runabouts of Alpha Flight hurriedly made their final approaches as the Bonaventure's massive impulse engines roared to life. Nestled just below and in front of them, the four ships of Bravo Flight activated theirs as well, holding a white-knuckle close formation with their mothership. Bonaventure accelerated rapidly through the gap, passing the Swordfish by a matter of hundreds of metres, as the faint glimmer of tachyon emissions sparkled forward along the plane in front of it. The blue mist of the aceton effect thinned momentarily, then went out altogether, unexpectedly allowing the Swordfish to maneuver close behind the Bonaventure, at a lower rate of speed. The effect was temporary, however, and the cerulean haze returned to envelope the Breen vessel once again. For the Bonaventure, however, the effect was sufficient to clear the asteroid field and emerge on the other side. Just as it did, the four ships of Bravo maneuvered into a diamond formation, one before, another aft, one to port and the last to starboard. All activated the jamming systems they carried onboard, and with her reduced energy signature now in place, the Bonaventure maneuvered along the edge of the asteroid field, then came about to await the Hirogen vessels.

"All stop. Hold position here. Dazz, keep an eye out for any other distortions that could be reinforcements. Passive only, don't give away our position."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to watch for them."

"Morl, hold all weapons and do not fire until they get close enough to board."

"What makes you think they're going to board?" Sharpe asked.

"For the Hirogen, this is a trapped ship full of prey. They think they'll be hunting before long. That's our chance. Lio'wan, what's the status of our flight groups?"

Lio'wan checked his console. "All flights ready, Bravo in position and holding."

"Good." Tw'eak looked back to Morl. "The instant you notice that their shields are down, I want you to open fire - full torp spread, on both targets."

"Can do."

Tw'eak turned to Lio'wan again. "How fast can Alpha and Charlie be on an attack vector?"

"Both squads are on the flight line presently. Should I launch them now?"

"No. From a standing start."

"About a minute or so?" Lio'wan noticed that Tw'eak was still looking at him. "Two minutes at the worst."

Tw'eak, for her part, was actually looking past her flight deck officer. "So we won't use them. Order Bravo Flight to lower the dampening field the same time we open fire, then hold position."

"Bravo lead is directly in front of us."

Tw'eak turned her head forward, as though looking through the bulkhead. "Better tell them to move as soon as they notice we're about to engage."

"Right."

Sharpe leaned in towards Tw'eak, who was still looking at the viewscreen. "They'll be able to trace the origin point of those torpedoes pretty quickly."

"That's why we won't be here when they do." She stood up. "Helm, prepare thrusters, full ahead, on my command."

"Full ahead, standing by."

A beat, then another. The pulse of the bridge crew seemed to be unified into a distinct, humming rhythm. Tw'eak realized it was the warp core making that noise, but for a moment it sounded like her officers' circulatory systems were the source. She sat back down in her chair again, hoping not to draw attention to herself.

"Hirogen ships slowing," Morl called out.

A few more moments went by. Tw'eak took a brief look around. None of her bridge officers were willing to tear their gaze from their consoles. None dared. The intricacy, the precision of their actions would determine the success or the failure of the coming action. It would be a close-run action, one that would certainly have an unpleasant epilogue if things did not go precisely as planned. Tw'eak had confidence in her bridge officers, however. And she knew they trusted in her every bit as much.

"Don't wait for my order," she instructed. "Just make it happen."

"Aye," came the word from across several stations of the bridge.

Another moment, then another, and Tw'eak felt the anxiety start to play on her mind. Torpedo launch then full ahead, or full ahead before the torpedoes? Did the torpedo guidance system require them not to engage thrusters until firing had completed? She couldn't remember. What about the phasers? Would the accuracy of her gunnery crews be affected negatively by the shift in velocity? She tried to put those questions aside, even if they were only being asked of her by herself.

Her inner debate was shattered by the noise of weapons fire notifications and a swift push of inertial momentum indicating her ship was underway. "Continue firing," she offered quickly, then glanced in the direction of Morl. He was busily engaged at his console. "Report."

"One Hirogen ship has its engines and shields offline, hull at 65%. The other... looks to be moving to shield it. Even then, its hull is even worse - there's a big breach in its starboard side. Both are trying to engage us, but their weapons haven't hit us yet."

"Target the lead ship - attack pattern Tw'eak beta."

"Beta, aye," O'Leary responded.

The Bonaventure continued to canter forward, pressing towards the Hirogen heavy escort, its phasers and torpedoes continuing to tear into the lead ship of the two. Its target shuddered as a phaser hit took down its shields moments before a torpedo barrage detonated its warp core. A blast of energy created a shockwave, throwing the other Hirogen vessel towards the asteroid field. Its engines disabled, it could only use its maneuvering thrusters in a desperate effort to avoid collision. The detonation also overloaded multiple aceton assimilators, causing the Swordfish to amble forwards slightly.

"Direct hit, Captain. Hirogen targets both either disabled or destroyed."

"Excellent. Hail the Swordfish."

"Hailing frequencies open."

Selkirk Rex appeared on screen, smiling and laughing. "Ye did it! Brilliant!"

"It's not over yet."

"Aye. Ye'd best press onto the main objective. Some of our crew were able to get the emergency transporters active and boarded that Hirogen vessel just as soon as you disabled her. They're still onboard, we're going to maintain position just beyond that aceton field and back their boarding action! Yow!"

"All right," Tw'eak responded hesitantly.

"Don't worry, our other ships will support ye on the final assault. Give 'em hell!" The screen blinked back to showing the forward view as Selkirk Rex closed the channel.

"Lio'wan, launch Alpha and have them and Bravo support the Swordfish."

"They're not coming with us?"

"Ready Delta instead and order them to carry transphasic torpedoes. Echo flight to standby."

Lio'wan nodded. "Delta re-configuring for bomb runs, Echo on startup."

Tw'eak turned towards Dazz. "Any sign of further Hirogen contact?"

"Nothing that I can see, anyway."

"All right. Helm, lay in a course for the primary objective. Full impulse."

"Course laid in." O'Leary turned towards his captain. "Direct course?"

Tw'eak considered for a moment. "That's right, we won't have anyone blocking their sensors." She looked upwards, thinking. "Follow our evasive course as planned."

Dazz interrupted. "I'm getting a reading - there's another ship over the target. Make that... two ships." She looked up. "And multiple types of weapons signatures."

Tw'eak looked up, puzzled. Had her Starfleet reinforcements moved in without authorization? "What kind of ships, Lieutenant?"

"Two KDF vessels for sure. The third keeps cloaking and uncloaking. Seems to be..."

"A very old Romulan warbird, I'd bet. That's Selkirk's armada. Cancel that evasive course - straight on to target, let's move to support. Full impulse."

"Underway," acknowledged the helmsman.

Tw'eak turned to Sharpe. "At least we're sure to get a straight answer about whether they're friend or foe," she said dryly.

To an outside observer, the action over Mylasa VII might have appeared to be nothing unconventional - a meteor shower in the upper atmosphere, or a pocket of interstellar gas coming into frictional contact with a metallic object. From a distance, Tw'eak's eye saw them the same way, as just a series of interactions between the planet's upper atmosphere and something. But the interactions in question were undoubtedly deadly. The thunderous cascade of plasma, disruptor and tetryon weapons energy - to say nothing of the torpedoes being traded back and forth as well - was no natural phenomenon. It was the vicious effort of two series of combatants against each other.

"How much longer?" Tw'eak asked.

Her helmsman turned his head slightly. "One minute, six seconds to maximum weapons range."

"Damn," she muttered to herself. It was hard to seem casual at a moment like this, knowing that her ship and crew were at full throttle towards mortal danger against an enemy of unknown strength and numbers. Still, it was important for her to make an effort. She stood up and straightened her uniform tunic, then walked as casually as she could force over to the nearest replicator unit. "Water. Cold." As her gloved hand closed over the cool, precipitate surface of the glass, she made a point of not looking towards her crew. When she did, as she took a step away from the replicator, they were all staring back at her, some in astonishment. "Sorry, my throat always gets a little dry," she commented, taking a long sip afterwards. The icy sensation of swallowing calmed her nerves and she smiled slightly. "Anyone else care for a glass of water?"

There were a series of declining responses, another huge grin across Lio'wan's feline expression, and one hand raised in acceptance, from Dazz. Tw'eak replicated another glass and walked quickly across the bridge with it as well as her own. "Thank you," Dazz said as she took a long drink. "I don't know how you keep it together, ma'am."

"I just think of home," Tw'eak responded, loud enough for her voice to echo across the bridge. "All the people I'm out here defending. I think of myself, back among them, safe again, after all this fighting's over. And I tell myself I have to be better than them, whoever they are, so that I can be home again."

Dazz considered what her captain had told her, and drank off the rest of her glass of water. "Thanks."

"Here, let me take that. No sense having loose glassware around."

Dazz smiled and handed back the glass. As Tw'eak returned to the replicator, she placed the glass on the tray, and it hummed into a return to pure energy. She then finished her own glass quickly and did the same with it. "Time?" she asked O'Leary.

"Fifteen seconds."

"All right." She crossed to her chair and sat down. "Morl?"

"Locked on and ready for contact."

"Lio'wan, ready flight."

"Delta flight ready for launch," Lio'wan responded.

"Thrusters only. Octavia?"

"Diverting all available power to weapons and shields."

"One Hirogen ship," Dazz advised, "and it's a big one."

"Apex-class battlecruiser bearing three-five-five mark zero-one-zero," Octavia added. "All decks report combat ready; engine room reports all systems at full capacity."

"Launch flight. Attack vector. Approach the side that Selkirk's ships are engaging."

"The two KDF ships are currently above and to port of the Hirogen vessel. One is a Gorn Varanus-class vessel, the other a Klingon K'tinga class battlecruiser. Both have taken hits; the Gorn ship's shield is holding but the K'tinga is leaking engine plasma and is attempting to rebalance its shields."

"Can we get close enough to extend our shields, maybe give them a little support?" Sharpe asked.

"I don't see why not," O'Leary replied, "but I'd rather they knew what we were doing."

"Right. Morl, open frequency."

"Hailing frequencies open," the Tellarite acknowledged.

"This is Captain Sh'abbas of the Federation starship Bonaventure hailing all craft in range. We are on patrol in this sector; any hostile vessels are hereby ordered to withdraw or surrender, as their presence will require us to use deadly force if they do not. Either identify yourself or -"

A bolt of tetryon energy burst from the Hirogen ship, striking the forward shield of the Bonaventure. "Shields holding," Morl offered. "Both KDF ships and the Romulan vessel have identified themselves as friendly."

Tw'eak gave Sharpe a quick glance. "Just like we expected," she noted. Sharpe nodded curtly.

"The Hirogen's shields are weakening on the aft quarter," Octavia noted.

"That ship turns as slowly as an Andorian mule," Morl added.

"Zabathu," Tw'eak corrected.

"Right. We should be able to put a few shots directly onto the engines."

"Lio'wan?"

"No problem for Delta. They're on attack vector now. Transphasic torpedoes at the ready."

"Target engines - to disable, don't blow their nacelles off or anything."

"Aye," Morl nodded, his tone sounding disappointed.

The Bonaventure swept past the Apex's starboard side, moving into an attack position that placed the K'tinga neatly on its wing. The two ships opened fire together, torpedoes, phaser beams and disruptor cannons all blasting away at the same target. The Hirogen ship shook with the heavy fire, its hull and shields both taking a pounding. The warp core shut down as a safety precaution and the glow of the engines faded to black.

"Hirogen engines are offline," Dazz announced.

Octavia tapped her console, then added, "Hirogen hull at 28%, power levels fading. Their weapons and shields are also going offline, although it's hard to get a clear scan."

"We hit them pretty hard," Sharpe commented. "Should be the last of them."

Tw'eak narrowed her eyes as she looked over the damaged Hirogen hulk on her viewscreen. "I'm not so sure," she said after a few moments. "Lio'wan, ready Echo flight for Hazard transport."

"Hazard-" Lio'wan caught his surprise and shook his head at himself. "Readying for transport."

"Morl, have the Hazard teams -no, have teams one through three report to the flight deck; have Hazard team four standing by in reserve."

"Boarding parties?" Morl asked.

"Only way to be sure. Besides, looks like we're in good company." The Gorn and Klingon ships were moving into visual contact on the viewscreen, boarding parties having already launched from their own shuttles.

"Ma'am, I must advise you that it would be improper for you to lead this away team," Sharpe said, standing.

"You stay here and conduct repairs, co-ordinate with Selkirk's other ships."

"No," Sharpe responded.

Tw'eak turned and looked at him thoughtfully. "Go ahead."

"It's inappropriate for you to leave the bridge while we're still in combat. If something goes wrong over here, we won't be able to beam you back."

Octavia turned in her chair. "I agree, Captain."

Tw'eak considered it for a moment, then nodded. It wouldn't do for her to disagree with her first and second officers at a moment like this. "All right, Sharpe - but I want you to take Aurora and Zed along with you to establish a command post and beam-out point over there."

"No disagreement here." Sharpe turned to Octavia. "Are you in?"

"I feel I would be of more use here."

"All right. Lio'wan, have Delta stand by until we're with them." He tapped his commbadge. "Doucette, Didaggo, get your ground gear and report to flight deck." As he stepped into the turbolift, he turned and said, "good luck, Captain."

Tw'eak looked up at her first officer for a moment. "...to us all."

The doors whisked shut and Octavia stood. "I should prefer to remain at my station if possible."

"Of course. Being the acting first officer doesn't mean you have to sit in the chair."

"May I ask a question, Captain?"

"Of course."

"Earlier, when you addressed Lieutenant Dazz's concerns, you acknowledged a sense of 'home' as a motivating purpose. I find myself hesitating to identify a place I would rightly identify as such."

"The roses, Octavia. Someone has to tend the roses." She smiled. "Can't think of anyone better qualified."

"I see." This seemed to alleviate Octavia's concerned expression. "That would serve as an appreciable alternative which meets the purpose." She looked at Tw'eak. "Thank you."

"No problem." She turned to Dazz. "Anything further on sensors?"

"Nothing that I can see. There's a lot of shuttle traffic on sensors but it's not anything threatening."

"This was not a strong position," Morl commented.

"Indeed," Lio'wan affirmed, adding, "A little too easy for my liking."

"Selkirk Rex's ships are both working to restore their shields and repair their hulls." Octavia looked up from her station. "Perhaps we should offer to assist?"

"Not sure how much we can handle in that regard, we're spread pretty thin. If anything goes wrong, half my engineers are on a Breen ship behind us."

"I understand, I just thought that perhaps supporting our new allies might be in order." Octavia's considerate tone in reference to Selkirk Rex and his 'pirate' crew was a marked contrast to Sharpe's.

"Let's just hold off until the boarding action is completed, and then-"

A flashing alert began to sound on Dazz's console. "Contact! Bearing zero-on-two mark niner-niner!"

"Evasive maneuvers - pattern Zeta nine! What have we got?"

The ship rolled notably despite its inertial dampening field, forcing Dazz to steady herself in her chair as she checked her console. "I don't know, but it was a motion sensor that caught it. It's Hirogen, and it's big."

"Probably another Apex," Morl added, checking his station. "Maybe two of them. They're opening fire."

Tw'eak exchanged concerned glances with Octavia, then settled back into her chair, looking at each of her bridge officers in turn as she addressed them, receiving nods in the affirmative from each as she did. "Lio'wan, launch everything we've got ready. Morl, return fire. O'Leary, get us turned around, get our torpedoes on target." She then looked back to Octavia, who was staring back at her. "Keep the power levels up,"

"The roses," she mumbled as she turned back to her station, repeating it several times as if a mantra.

"Morl, signal Sharpe. Let him know..." The ship rocked from another impact.

"Shields at seventy-eight percent," Octavia reported.

"...let him know we're engaging. And he's on his own for a while."


	9. Chapter 9

"Great - stuck down here with no way out." Sharpe demanded.

Lieutenant Commander Aurora Doucette looked over towards her commanding officer from where she had just set up a four-part transporter enhancer field. "Don't worry, sir! I'm sure I can get that shuttlecraft home again... if I can just get into an EV suit long enough to fix it."

"That was a really rough landing," Sharpe continued. They had come down inside what appeared to be a cargo bay, with netting strung on every wall. Their boarding shuttle was docked to the exterior, and they had made their way into the ship's interior without a shot being fired yet. Sharpe, Zed, Aurora and a team of three Starfleet marines from the Bonaventure fanned out into a defensive position around the shield generator, phaser rifles at the ready.

"I'm reading humanoid lifesigns in both directions," medic Zed reported. "No Starfleet commbadges yet, though."

Aurora looked up from checking her rifle to be sure the safety was off. "They're probably Hirogen trackers. They have shrouding capabilities, like the Jem'Hadar." Sharpe gave her a surprised look. "I read up on them before we engaged them in combat." She shrugged. "Figured it couldn't hurt."

"Good job. Let's keep quiet and alert. Didaggo, keep trying to raise the Hazard teams."

"Aye, sir."

"Scan for weapons fire and other signs of struggle as well."

Aurora looked up at the bones and skulls hanging from every wall, column and railing. "Lots of that around here, sir."

"No kidding," Zed affirmed.

An expansive room laid out before them, with a central walkway towards the centre. On the various walls were a series of hooks and spikes, with whole skeletons suspended in place, their connections and attachments still in place. From the rooftop dangled bags of bones in cargo netting, and along the far wall, a series of eight glowing white consoles, and the sounds of boiling water. Inside bobbed and fell a few examples of the kinds of remains which decorated the walls.

"Charming place they've got here," Sharpe commented.

"Not really a look I can appreciate," Zed added.

"Let's patrol. Each of you marines, pair off with one of us. Stay in contact."

"Sir, I recommend we stay together," Aurora objected. "We're stronger in numbers."

"I don't disagree with you, but we need to establish a command post and get in contact with both our teams and the pirate crew. And we can't do that until we know what's around us." He pointed towards the ranking marine. "You're with me. Move out."

Aurora tapped a young Andorian marine on the shoulder and gestured in the opposite direction. Zed paired up with a nervous-looking Rigelian marine and followed, then separated at the junction at the far end of the room.

"Shields at forty-seven percent," Octavia reported as the bridge of the Bonaventure was .

"I'm reading two more heavy escorts," Morl added. "That makes four, along with two battlecruisers."

"Signal the Starfleet forces beyond the system perimeter. Code word 'bluebell'."

"Did you say 'bluebell', ma'am?"

"Yes, 'bluebell'. Do it!"

"On the way."

* * *

"All flights down or re-loading," Lio'wan growled. "The Hirogen seem to be taking them down faster than they can launch. Orders?"

"Hold launches until further notice," Tw'eak said with a frown. "Best to conserve-"

Another burst of tetryon energy caused a shower of sparks to issue forth from a burst EPS conduit.

"Shields are buckling - now at twenty-nine percent!"

"Stral - I need more shield power!"

The Vulcan shield distribution officer did not look up from his console. "I am attempting to compensate." He worked at his task determinedly.

Tw'eak remembered her conversation with Dashii. "Don't use lateral flow," she instructed. Stral looked up at her, astonished. "Go with it. Like a plasmonic sculpture." She fanned her fingers out wide and brought them around into a clasping motion, as though ready to play volleyball.

"I... understand." Stral went back to his work, one eyebrow elevated.

Two bursts in rapid succession struck the ship. "They seem to be focusing on us!" Morl exclaimed.

"O'Leary - stay evasive. Turn into the attack - into it!"

"Trying!" the young helmsman shouted in reply.

"Octavia, our shields?"

"All but gone now, ma'am."

"Emergency power!"

"Already there."

Tw'eak gripped the arm rests of her chair. "Morl, target the lead Hirogen ship. O'Leary - collision course."

O'Leary looked up.

"We're not going to hit them, let's just throw them off. Hard over and right at them - make them react to us for once."

"Playing chicken?"

Tw'eak nodded. "I was going to say 'turkey'. But it's 'chicken'. Thank you."

"Coming about."

The Bonaventure spun hard about its z-axis, turning its nose to face the Hirogen ships. It burst past them as its shields finally died, throwing off their pursuit for a few moments. They, too, were able to spin rapidly and pursue, which led the Bonaventure to double back upon them, then once around an Apex battlecruiser. At that point, having just completed an attack run on that target, the K'Tinga class pirate vessel came up behind both Bonaventure and its Hirogen pursuers, and targeted one, firing its disruptors and drawing it off the chase.

"One of the Hirogen ships has broken off and is being pursued by the K'Tinga," Octavia reported.

"Lio'wan - do we have flights ready?"

"Delta flight bombed up and ready for a run."

"Launch. Pursuit on escort behind us. Transphasic torpedo attack run. Can they tractor beam it for us?"

"Yes indeed!" the big Caitian confirmed.

"As soon as you can."

The Hirogen ship opened fire with its tetryon cannons, perforating the surface of the dorsal saucer section in three places as it did. The Bonaventure continued to maneuver as this happened, resulting in one of the shots landing squarely upon the bridge dome. The tetryon energy carried away a piece of the reinforced surface, making a massive mess of the bridge beneath it. Wires, cords and chunks of bulkhead tumbled from above, raining down upon Tw'eak and her officers. Some of the larger debris fell on the deck around the helm position and tactical position, injuring Morl, Stral, Dazz and O'Leary in the process.

"Medical team to the bridge!" Tw'eak ordered as she smacked her commbadge. She rushed over to check on Dazz, whose acidic Bolian blood stained the console in several places, but she raised a hand and kept working. Stral did not appear injured, but O'Leary was unconscious and Morl staggered back to his feet, his forehead covered in blood.

"I have helm control," Octavia said quickly, adapting to the situation without a moment's loss. "I can also initiate tactical."

"No," Morl replied. "I'm fine."

Tw'eak looked up appreciatively at her stubborn Tellarite tactical officer. Pig-headed, Dashii had called the Tellarites. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Delta flight reports multiple hits on Hirogen target. The ship is breaking off."

"One of the Apex class battlecruisers has nearly destroyed the Romulan vessel," Dazz reported.

"On screen." Tw'eak looked up to see the dull grey form of the T'liss warbird initiating a subspace jump, creating a gravity well which held the immense Hirogen vessel in place. As the Romulan vessel re-materialized, its impulse engines flashed brightly as they engaged, and the Apex's starboard warp nacelle was shorn from its housing by the impact. Amputated, it listed heavily to port, turning almost to show its belly while the T'liss exploded against it, a bright greenish-white singularity explosion that snapped the hull of the Apex almost in two. Moments after, the Apex in turn detonated, its warp core destroyed, its hull shattered by the death throes of the Romulan vessel.

"Hirogen vessel Apex-2 is destroyed," Morl advised.

The medical team fanned out from the turbolift, and Tw'eak moved towards the centre of the bridge, leaving O'Leary to the care of Doc Ellington. "Where's Apex-3?"

"It's engaging with the Gorn ship. Looks like the Gorn are getting the better of the encounter."

Tw'eak turned to Octavia. "Find the nearest escort and engage it. I want back-and-forth attack passes between escorts - just hit what's in front of us. Don't let them get into a turning fight with them."

"Confirmed."

Tw'eak saw Doc Ellington and an orderly carrying O'Leary towards the turbolift. She took a couple steps towards her, just in front. "How is he, Doc?"

"You work your miracles, Tw'eak, let me worry about mine."

"Right." She stood aside and let the medical team escort O'Leary and Morl from the bridge. "You, too?" she asked Morl.

"Won't be long." Morl looked up through a blood-veiled expression, a grim smile faintly visible.

Tw'eak patted him on the shoulder. "We'll keep them warm for you." She moved towards the tactical station and talked to Octavia. "All right, you keep us turning and sliding past them, I'll lock them up as we fly by and engage them. See if you can get the shields back up."

"I'm doing all I can. All non-essential systems are offline to shunt more power to the shields and weapons."

"Take it from phasers, too. Tell the torpedo crews that I want their best effort. Reload as quick as they can, all tubes. I'll fire them as they come online."

"Got it."

Tw'eak tapped in commands that dictated terms of launch to all torpedoes: seek and destroy, Hirogen targets only, do not engage any non-Hirogen targets, maintain seeking radius less than forty-five degrees at point of launch, maximum acceleration to target for shield penetration, no proximity detonations. Three forward tubes were loaded; two aft tubes were ready as well.

Together, Octavia and Tw'eak orchestrated a careful series of attack runs back and forth across the Hirogen formation. As the K'Tinga and Gorn ships played for time, remaining evasive and engaging as they saw opportunity, the Bonaventure sped back and forth across the action, drawing off the occasional Hirogen escort while forcing others to disengage pursuit and return to supporting others. A gravimetric disturbance appeared after the third or fourth run, tying down three of the Hirogen vessels, and the Bonaventure's torpedoes (along with those from its Bravo flight vessels) were able to destroy two of them, heavily damaging a third which was between those two as they detonated. The debris was crushed in the gravity disturbance, and the runabouts had to be careful to avoid its effects during their runs.

"Good, now we're getting somewhere. Maneuver tightly on Apex-3."

Octavia nodded her compliance, and the Bonaventure's nose turned towards the last operational Hirogen battlecruiser. Torpedoes launched towards the target, homing in on the target, their explosive effect narrowed by their velocity to provide penetration towards the hull. The shear of the impact caused the Apex to roll slightly as it tried to bring its forward guns to bear against the Bonaventure. It was about fifteen degrees removed from being able to do so as the Bonaventure zoomed over it, launching its aft torpedoes with similar effect in the process. Simultaneously, strikes from the runabouts' torpedoes had a similar effect on the other side, and the big battlecruiser found itself turning the wrong way to pursue.

"Now back to those escorts."

"Two of them are moving to attack the Gorn vessel," Dazz advised.

"Let's see if we can't stop them." Tw'eak looked down at the display in front of her, showing the shield distribution to be weakest on the port and upper quadrants. "Stral? Can we get the shields a little more even?"

"I am continuing to balance our shields with as much power as is available."

"Keep it up." Tw'eak looked towards Lio'wan. "Can we launch anyone else?"

"We haven't got enough runabouts left," Lio'wan responded. "I've got search-and-rescue out, they've picked up a couple more pilots, but we're short of flight-ready runabouts to launch."

"How many do we have?"

"Two, maybe three."

"Get 'em out there. Tell them to form up with Delta."

Lio'wan nodded and pursed his lips. "All right."

"Targets ahead," Octavia mentioned.

"Let's take the one on the left. Give me phaser power."

"Moving into position. Phaser power... now."

As the Bonaventure's phaser beams tore through space around the Hirogen left-hand vessel, the right-hand one broke off and its tetryon cannons blasted towards the Bonaventure. The impact weakened the forward shield and obliterated the top one, causing the overall shield energy to buckle. The Hirogen vessel continued to fire, closing in on the Bonaventure and holding a steady rate of fire. As it passed over the Bonaventure, four hits fell heavily upon the hull - two of them upon the port-side support connecting the warp nacelle to the hull, one striking the saucer section to starboard, and the fourth impacting directly upon the bridge module, in the same place where the reinforcement had fallen before.

The bridge atmosphere was pierced, a hull breach sucking the viewscreen and the upper portion of the ceiling into space. Had O'Leary remained at his station, he doubtless would have been sucked into space. Tw'eak herself, had she been in her captain's chair, would have struggled to hang on. As it was, Stral had wrapped an arm around his console, positioning his legs so that his body was braced to hold tight against the suction. Dazz, however, in a seated position, found herself being pulled into space. Tw'eak watched from the tactical station, braced against it in much the way Stral was against his station. She had seen hull breaches before, sometimes just as up-close and personal, but she had never been witness to an officer fighting a losing battle against the vacuum of space. She watched as Dazz gripped desperately onto the underside of her sensor console, her bloodied hands slipping and losing their hold. Tw'eak saw the Bolian begin to be drawn upwards, her legs now fully extended towards the breach, and decided to make a desperate move.

Vaulting over the tactical station, Tw'eak was drawn upwards towards the breach. She managed to get her right hand onto the sensor station, and her body turned upwards in much the same angle and pull as Dazz - but Dazz had already let go. Tw'eak turned her head and extended her left arm to try to save her, but as she did, the Bolian sensors officer with whom she had served for nearly a year was drawn off into the vacuum of space, her arms clawing in Tw'eak's direction as the emergency force field finally activated, leaving Tw'eak's fingers just inches from the shield as it sprang to life. Tw'eak crumpled across the console, her uniform becoming stained with Bolian blood in the process, and immediately sprang to her feet, tapping her commbadge.

"Emergency transport, crew in space! Get her back NOW!"

Tw'eak looked up and Dazz hung there, being drawn outwards, with her mouth and eyes wide open. The explosive effects of decompression began to take hold, but as they did, she began to sparkle a bright blue, and was then no more. The transporter beam had retrieved her - for once a good thing that the ship's shields were inoperative and providing no resistance to transporter energy - and Dazz became another of Doc Ellington's miracles to be worked.

For her part, Tw'eak continued to extend her reach upwards for a moment longer, her gloves and uniform streaked with purplish-blue blood, before she collapsed and to the floor of the bridge, beneath and to one side of the sensors station, rolling slightly, in agony.

Octavia struck her commbadge. "Medical team to the bridge!" She looked down at her console, which showed several new sensor contacts. "There's another- no, three- make that five more ships coming in. The lead ship is the Belfast. They're hailing us."

"On scr-" Tw'eak caught herself. There was no viewscreen upon which to put the message. "Audio."

"- repeat, this is Captain Va'kel Shon of the Belfast." Of course, Tw'eak thought to herself. It has to be him riding to the rescue, doesn't it? "Bonaventure, come in."

Tw'eak sank to the floor and tapped her commbadge. "Sh'abbas here, Belfast."

"Tw'eak!" Shon's voice was astonished. "Are you all right?"

Tw'eak kept staring starkly upwards, through the breach in her bridge module. "Feeling a little... spacy at the moment. How are you?"

"We have orders for you to disengage. We've got your back."

"Okay. Don't-" Her eyes resumed their focus momentarily. "Shon, don't shoot anyone who isn't Hirogen."

"Confirmed. We got your coded message. We're taking it to the Hirogen."

Still looking into the bulkhead, Tw'eak watched through the blown-out section of the bridge as a Defiant-class starship, USS BELFAST visible along its nacelle, streaked past overhead. It has to be him, she thought to herself again.

"Go get 'em, Shon. Bonaventure out."

She tried to sit up, but her legs struggled against the enormity of it. Once again the turbolift door opened, this time to admit two more orderlies. She made to move away from them but merely succeeded in rolling onto her stomach. After an unexpectedly difficult effort, she rose to a crawling position, her body aching.

"It's all right, ma'am," Lio'wan said, suddenly beside her. "I've got tactical."

"And I can handle the withdrawal order," Octavia added. The two of them were lifting her up, and she was powerless to stop them or get away. "Go on, ma'am."

"No, just- just get me back to that chair." She meant to point towards the command chair, but raising her arm proved impossible. Her finger pointed towards the ground instead, and as she tried to take another step, she faltered again, unable to discern why she had such trouble moving.

Orderlies appeared on either side of Tw'eak, to whom Lio'wan and Octavia handed her over, as though she was a cargo container. She felt her head swim, then she crumpled into their arms, quite unlike a captain should behave, she thought to herself. As she was carried off her bridge, tears began to issue from her eyes, another breach of proper captaincy and conduct. Her antennae more or less flopped with gravity, her body nearly lifeless, she lost consciousness in the orderlies' arms as though the turbolift's movement carried her away. Her last thought was of what Shon would think if he were to see her in such an undignified state on her own bridge.


	10. Chapter 10

The confinement of a grav-chair was not what Tw'eak was expecting to find when she awoke. She had been convinced, in a dream-like state, that she was in her command chair on the bridge, as she had demanded, when she came to, leading her to mumble orders to officers as she emerged from unconsciousness.

"Doctor? She's coming around." The bright lights of the room she was in were unlike the red-alert glow of her bridge. Had they turned to face a star? She tried to reach up to shield her eyes, but her arms were restrained. She pushed, exerting herself to her utmost, but she couldn't get them to move. "Easy now."

She recognized that voice. "Zed?"

"Yes, Captain. Good to see you're back." She saw a purple blur of motion against the burst of light. "You're in the medical ward of Earth spacedock."

"Earth? What are... how?"

"The doctor's had you sedated for a while. She can explain."

"Well." The gruff, if pleasant, tone of her chief medical officer's voice was the same as ever. "Sleeping beauty back among us." She knelt and Tw'eak, who was having trouble lifting her head, straightened up enough to look into her eyes, then back down at the restraints. The silver-and-copper blur in her field of vision slowly resolved to make Doc Ellington's features, her greying hair and dark brown skin, her slender hands and her lean, anxious face, with the sarcastic twinkle and half-upturned smirk clearly discernible. This was not the first time Tw'eak had revived in a sickbay and seen Doc's face, although it had been some years.

"Doc? What- why can't I?"

"Hold still, Tw'eak. You'll just make me want to sedate you again."

"Come on." She rustled against the restraints. "Just tell me."

"Well, it's not every day that our fearless blue leader decides to toss herself through a hull breach."

Tw'eak nearly sprang up at the mention of the word 'blue'. "Dazz! What happened-" The restraints did their job, and the pain of the interrupted motion made her groan involuntarily.

"You keep doing that and you're back to dreamland for a couple more hours."

"But Dazz..."

"Is very much alive, thanks to you. Took me about four surgeries and a lot of help from her Bolian physiology, but we made it." Doc sighed. "The injuries to her nervous system mean that she probably won't be able to continue in her current specialty, though."

"Why?"

"She sustained major damage to the nerves connecting her extremities. She's lost about fifty percent of the neuro-connectors in her hands and feet. And since Bolians don't tend to respond well to regeneration, I think she'll have to be given medical leave, maybe indefinitely." Doc looked up at Tw'eak. "But there's hope. I hate to say it, sound like a Ferengi when I do, but sometimes war is good for business for me, too. We've developed all sorts of new treatments for various species as a result of necessity, as a result of the war. And she's young, she's tough, and she's determined."

Tw'eak smiled. "Must remind you of someone."

"Someone who seems to have missed a day or two in her EV suit training. Just what the hell were you thinking, diving across a punctured bridge like that?"

"Wasn't thinking," she said with an attempted shrug that became a painful twinge.

"Well, that much is obvious." Doc turned her head to take in the rest of the room. "Looks like many of our other wounded are going to pull through as well. Morl's fine, was a deep laceration but he's okay. O'Leary responded really well to the concussion treatments, and he's looking forward to getting home for a couple days. We lost quite a number of marines over on the Hirogen ship, had a couple wounded from both there and the Swordfish but Selkirk Rex and his pirates have a few new toys to play with. Even Tucker Sharpe looks like he's going to pull through."

Tw'eak looked at Doc. It was news to her. "What happened to Sharpe?"

"I don't know," Doc replied, "but I know someone who does. He and Aurora both filed a full report - best I let them tell it." She tapped her commbadge. "Ellington to Doucette. She's up. Are you available?"

"Be right there," Aurora could be heard to say.

"I'll tell Zed to come over with her when she gets here." Doc patted Tw'eak on the shoulder, very gently. "You need anything else while I'm here?"

"Why am I in a restraining field?"

"Oh, that." Doc moved her hands as she talked, as though putting Tw'eak back together with various waving motions of her hands. "You dislocated almost every joint on your body, surfing vacuum like that. No need to worry about your synthetic arm - it's fully functional, but I restrained it anyway just so you wouldn't get any delusions of normalcy. Now, I could've put you on a bio-bed and strapped you in tighter than an airlock hatch, but knowing you, if you'd come to lying down on the job you'd fight like a Jem'Hadar to break out of it." She chuckled. "If you didn't insist on giving the bed to some other lower rank first."

Tw'eak offered a woozy grin. "Am I that predictable?"

"A good doctor always knows her patients," Ellington said as she stood. "Besides, I've known you since you were tactical officer on the Nelson. You've never shown any hesitation about throwing yourself into your duty. I just wish you hadn't taken that concept quite so literally this time." Doc continued chuckling to herself as she made her way down the ward of bio-beds clogged with wounded.

Tw'eak felt herself swoon in the grav-chair as she watched Doc Ellington walk away, unable to focus her eyes on movement. She had forgotten about that. Her time on the Sovereign-class USS Nelson as tactical officer had lasted two years following a promotion after her service aboard the Enterprise-E, and it had been Doc Ellington's job to save her life on at least two separate occasions. She had once taken a direct disruptor blast from a pulsewave assault weapon to the back of the right arm while her personal shield was low, nearly severing it in the blast and incurring a rather nasty plasma burn over a third of her body. A biosynthetic arm had been fitted over the course of her recovery, and she only missed two weeks' work on the bridge.

The commendation and mentions in dispatches she received from her commanding officer had led to a rapid promotion to commander after she had taken a dagger to the throat while protecting her ambushed captain during a diplomatic contact gone terribly wrong. Klingon agents had used the lure of a potential first contact mission to draw the captain's interest, then while on the planet's surface, their attempted assassination had ended with an emergency beam-out, but not before a kut'luch blade had nearly severed Tw'eak's head from her body. She still bore the scar from that attack, among others less visibly obvious, like the aftereffects of exposure to various types of radiation, the numerous welts and bits of scar tissue from a series of melee and energy attacks during ground combat, the long and jagged mark down her right leg which had been the legacy of a bio-molecular laceration from an Undine infiltrator which had replaced her captain while first officer (and briefly commanding officer once the Undine was exposed) of the Steamrunner-class USS Repulse, and the occasional problems she had with migraines, ever since being struck in the head by debris when her station on the Enterprise-E had been damaged by Praetor Shinzon's attack. That skull fracture had been the first wound she had received in the service. How many was this now? she wondered to herself, reviewing her service record and medical history from behind her closed eyes. And how much longer, before her luck ran out?

"Captain?" Down a dark corridor Tw'eak could hear herself being summoned. "Captain Sh'abbas?" She realized after a moment that the corridor was fluidic, or perhaps filled with water, and she was slowly drawing closer to a light at its end. More mumbling voices all around her, and she felt herself gasp, her eyes opened wide, as she surfaced.

Her limbs flailed needlessly against the restraints for a moment before she recalled her state. She was still in a grav-chair, still wearing a shapeless chartreuse hospital gown, but the room around her that came into focus was no sickbay. It was hers - or rather, her quarters on the Bonaventure. She recognized the glow of a plasmonic sculpture she had recently completed from her workstation, still not happy with its overall contours. It was not a welcome reunion for Tw'eak as the artwork left much to be desired and would probably have to be started again. Beyond that lay a multi-systems display upon the wall, showing several systems, including the warp drive, offline or in a state of repair. She took in that information rather quickly before realizing happier reunions were just a few degrees to her right. Assembled together were four of her senior officers. Octavia and Aurora Doucette stood near each other, while seated upon the curved sectional couch in the nearest quarter of the room were Zed and Doc Ellington.

"Welcome home," Aurora said with a giggle, nearly bouncing.

"I... can I move?"

"Not yet," Doc answered. "But only because your restraints are still on. We can take them off and let you try to walk around a bit, but only in this room. Anywhere else on ship is off-limits unless Zed escorts you."

"Nicest looking brig I ever saw," Tw'eak quipped.

"It's not really to my taste," Doc cajoled. "Whoever the designer was, she has some eclectic ideas of how to design her quarters."

If she'd had a free hand, Tw'eak would have waved the doctor's sarcasm aside. "I didn't expect the... Octavia, what's our status?"

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I am under orders from our chief medical officer to provide you with no further information as to the ship's status for the time being."

"It's for your own good, Tw'eak," Doc added.

"The hell it is. At least give me an idea of who's in command."

Doc raised a hand before Octavia could respond, filling in the blanks herself. "The Starfleet Corps of Engineers at Utopia Planitia Shipyards, Mars, Sol System, the Universe." Doc considered for a moment. "That is to say, our universe. Now, does that answer your question?"

"I am overseeing the repairs, and am in nominal command." Octavia added. "However, the Corps of Engineers will not permit us to leave spacedock without a bridge module fitted. In the meantime, you may rest easy and recover."

"That oughta hold her for a couple minutes," Zed joked.

"Don't you start," Tw'eak replied. "I have no idea what stardate it is."

"99118.4 at present," Octavia replied.

"No. I lost a whole week?" Tw'eak felt her head begin to swim again.

"We last spoke about three days ago, when you came out of sedation a little ahead of schedule." Doc reassured her. "The order to move Bonaventure out of Earth space control came just after that, and you'd asked to see Aurora and Zed. I had just enough time to co-ordinate and get all of our wounded back on board before we made our way to Mars." She paused for a moment. "Well, except for Dazz and Sharpe. They'll both need longer-term care at a Starfleet Medical facility. But I had to operate on your back for a second time. You Andorians have some of the most measly bone structure I've ever seen. "

Tw'eak looked around at her assembled officers. "I still don't know what happened," she said, then tilted her head to look at Doc. "Am I allowed to ask that question, Captain?"

"Good gracious, Tw'eak, wouldn't you rather give you time to work the sedatives out of - well then." Tw'eak's facial expression was reply enough. Doc turned to Zed. "You better tell her."

The Saurian looked momentarily put upon. "My report's waiting for her to read. Not that she should be reading yet - probably has quite a headache at the moment. Can't even concentrate, I'd bet. She needs a good long rest."

"Don't you take her side - give me a run-down. Summary. Precis. Something." Tw'eak tried to raise a hand to gesture with, but couldn't. "And could someone let me out of these restraints already?"

Doc moved to de-activate the grav chair's restraints as Octavia nudged Aurora. "I can help if you'd like," the young engineer offered.

"You can start by telling me what happened. You were over there with Sharpe, too."

"Actually, I wasn't. With Sharpe, I mean. He sent us off in pairs. And that was when we got separated from him. I had Corporal Vyhr with me, and he and I were able to fight our way out of the ambush that they beamed us into-"

"Ambush?" She looked to Zed.

He answered, "The Hirogen had transporter enhancers on their ship, along with the inhibiting effect the monotanium hull of the ship had on our ability to figure out where we were. So they could point-beam us out to wherever they wanted us, into little arenas where they hunted and fought us."

"It took me about three or four times being transported before I was able to set off a cascade failure that took down about half of their EPS network," Aurora added. "Wasn't hard - they had actually channeled warp power into their EPS in order to keep the 'hunt' going!"

"Sounds like Hirogen all right," Tw'eak muttered.

Zed shook his head. "It was horrible. I was with Private Eastochou, and he was wounded a number of times. I did the best I could, but he went down fighting. They then paired me with one of the pirate crew - they had done the same thing to them! And she and I, she had been a lieutenant in Starfleet, a Bajoran named Ereeyo, she had training as a security officer, and she and I were together when the system failed. We linked up with other members of her crew, many of them wounded as Eastochou had been. And slowly we were able to work our way to vital systems - first the weapons control station, then the main command deck. It was ugly. We lost a lot of good people over there."

"And Sharpe?" Tw'eak looked anxiously from Aurora to Zed.

Aurora swallowed hard. "It took forever for us to find him and Sergeant Galbreth. A group of Hirogen had recognized he was the ranking officer..." She looked to Zed, her eyes hardening.

"They were in the process of harvesting trophies from their bodies. I was able to bring them back both to life, but Sergeant Galbreth was too far gone. They had..." He looked grimly around the room, as if uncertain if any of those around him could take what he had to say. "They had opened her thoracic cavity, and were after something in there. I didn't want to scan to find out what, out of respect. They were about to cut her throat for the skull, when those Hirogen were engaged by our people and killed. I avoided contact with them, got to Sharpe just in time. I started with Galbreth, but there was no hope for her, so I got Sharpe resuscitated. Both of them had been painted with a bright green colour that I initially thought to be Vulcan blood." Zed's eyes narrowed. "It was horrible."

"And you were able to stabilize him?" Tw'eak asked.

"They weren't as interested in him, I think his initial cause of death was a concussion or electrical wound, because I was able to revive him quite easily. Galbreth... she'd only just been killed, ritualistically, before they cut her open. I wouldn't say Sharpe had been dead for anything longer than five or six minutes. Most of his wounds were simple lacerations and burns, nothing catastrophic."

Doc interrupted. "His cardiac function is a bit weaker than most, but it was never flagged as a detriment to command. How ironic that it would end up killing him too soon to satisfy a Hirogen's bloodlust."

Zed continued. "Anyway, more of our people were hurt fighting the Hirogen that had killed them, so I got the assistance of a medic from Selkirk Rex's main ship, and she carried Sharpe out and looked after him while I triaged and helped those who had been wounded taking down those Hirogen. It was only then, once the fighting was over, that I looked around... the Alpha Hirogen was one of those we'd slain, and by the looks of his... shall we call it a trophy case? Let's just say he was a very capable hunter. I ran a tricorder scan to make out all the various skulls and trophies... he even had a colossal sand scorpion's claws from Nimbus III."

"They'll let anyone run riot on Nimbus these days," Tw'eak noted.

"But the scan... there were Gorn, Bajoran, Nausicaan, Jem'Hadar, Undine, Romulan, Tellarite, Tholian, Reman, Cardassian, Andorian, Ferengi, even a couple which I didn't recognize instantly but whose names I knew from reading about the Delta Quadrant, like the Voth and the Quarrens... even a few Borg implants... it was unlike anything I've ever seen. All of these relics showed the presence of some kind of enzyme that had been used to 'boil down' the organic contents and preserve them. They had these vats all over the ship which were used for the same purpose."

"It was just horrible," Aurora noted, holding herself with her arms. "I never want to see anything like that again."

"Well, we did our part, and we did more than enough to disrupt their efforts to 'hunt' people like this in our part of the galaxy, at least." Tw'eak closed her eyes, trying to picture such a scene. "If either of you need to talk to Counselor T'uni, I'm sure she'll be available."

"Already have," Aurora acknowledged. Zed nodded appreciatively.

"All right. Thank you both. I suppose I'll have quite a report to fill out to Starfleet Command about this. Admiral Quinn will want to hear these details, possibly from both of you personally. I'll append your reports to mine when I file them."

"Later," Doc added. "You're in no condition to work right at the moment."

"No, but if I'm in any condition to stand, I'd like very much to change into a uniform."

"Oh, no. Next you'll be telling me to point-beam you to the bridge."

Tw'eak raised a hand, painfully. "Stop. I'll be good. Andorian's honour."

Doc ran a finger over her chin thoughtfully. "Lucky for you I know that means something to you. And I'll hold you to it, too." She stood up. "Come on." Holding out her arms, she waited for Tw'eak to take the first step.

It took a moment, a long and lingering moment in which she first placed her right foot on the ground, then found it too painful to spring up and walk. She held out a hand, and Octavia stepped to her left side, supporting her weight with an arm under the shoulder. "Thank you," she acknowledged as she put her other foot down and swung forwards, twisting for a desperate moment before she felt her spine click into place and stood aright for the first time in a week. "That'll take a little practice," she noted.

"I've got physiotherapy lined up to run you -well, walk you through the next phase of your recovery."

"Maybe I'd better leave that uniform where it is for a bit." She nodded in the direction of her desk. "That way?"

Zed stood and moved to the captain's other side, supporting her just as Octavia had done. Tw'eak felt suddenly self-conscious of her legs being visible, and the dip in the v-neck of her gown being far lower than was comfortable. She tried to move more quickly, but merely stumbled as a consequence. After a few steps further, she sat before her plasmonic sculpture and work station terminal.

"Thank you both." She turned to Octavia. "Would you mind putting that over on the table? It'll be a while before I can try plasmonic sculpture again."

"Of course," Octavia replied. She hoisted the ugly thing and carted it to a place on the table. "Can you see it well enough here?"

"I don't want to see it. It'll make me want to try plasmonic sculpture again. It wasn't coming together like I wanted."

"Then maybe you'd let me keep it," Doc said. "Could use something for next time down in sickbay."

"No, wait-"

Doc picked up the sculpture and made her way towards the exit. "I'll put it someplace safe, where you'll never find it, and next time I need something to remind you of your limitations, well..." She held up the sculpture and winked at her captain and friend, then left the room.

"I didn't dismiss you! Doctor!" Tw'eak's shouting was to no avail.

"I'd best be getting back to duty," Zed commented. "If you need anything, call me."

Tw'eak looked down. She wasn't wearing a commbadge. "With what?" she wondered.

"The console on your desk should be more than capable of-"

"Octavia. I know. It was a joke."

"Ah."

Aurora followed Zed towards the door, turning at the last moment. "Get well soon, captain." She smiled brightly and headed back to the engineering deck.

This left Tw'eak alone with her operations officer. "Is there anything further you require?"

"Those reports are all here," Tw'eak said with a look to her work station. "There's a bed in over there. Maybe just a bowl of plomeek soup..."

"Very well."

Tw'eak looked up at the liberated Borg in her quarters with a mixture of admiration and regret. "And a new first officer."

Octavia stopped in her path and turned. "Commander Sharpe may yet be able to return to duty."

"I know. But you handled yourself so well under fire during that action. And you're about the only person on this ship who's been taken apart and put back together more than I have, so I'd better keep you around. Like Doc said, to remind me of my limitations."

"I can assure you, Captain, that I do not regard my assimilation as being of a comparable experience to yours."

Tw'eak shook her head. "Don't misunderstand me, I mean that, when the time is right, you'll make a fine captain in your own way. And I intend to still be here to see that happen." She smiled. "I also intend to help to make that happen. Whenever I get my report together I'm going to include mention of every officer and marine involved in the boarding action, and recommend promotions for Dazz, for Morl, for O'Leary, for Sharpe... and for you."

"I... don't know what to say." Octavia looked pensively at the bulkhead. "The appropriate phrase would be 'thank you', but it seems curiously inefficient."

"I'm not looking for thanks. Tucker Sharpe is a good man, and by all reports he fought hard. He also kept an ability to look at Selkirk Rex and his people objectively, something I didn't do. Starfleet needs good commanders like him... dedicated, ambitious, free-thinking, principled." She looked up at Octavia with a twinkle in her eye. "Know anyone who that sounds like?"

Octavia nodded. "If you are referring to yourself, then I would agree. However, I have no further ambition than to see this ship, and her crew, safely returned from her next adventure." She gestured expansively. "This is my home. I once read that now-Admiral Janeway was able to persuade Seven of Nine to remain a part of the starship Voyager's creapaw by referring to that ship as a 'human collective'. This ship contains more than just a human crew. The collective of the Federation which it represents is something I have sworn to uphold as an officer in Starfleet. That is my purpose. Promotion is irrelevant. Only the greater good matters."

Tw'eak resisted the urge to make a pun about how fitting it was that a liberated Borg should find rising in a hierarchy to be irrelevant, but she let it go. Instead she said, "We'll see what happens. They don't always give those promotions out, after all."

"Of course. Shall I replicate your soup now?"

"I would appreciate it. Medium heat, please." Tw'eak smiled as she watched who she hoped would become her next first officer make her way to the replicator unit in the next room.


	11. Chapter 11

Two hours, a bowl of warm plomeek soup and a lot of abortive attempts at moving around later, Tw'eak found herself at loose ends. All of the reports which had needed reading, all of the reports which had needed filing, all of the many, many reports - including her own log - would simply have to wait. She wanted to rest, so she did. Every now and then, on her bed, she would make an effort to extend a limb or stretch her back, or her shoulders, but it was mostly hopeless. Now she wasn't certain she would easily be able to get back up again. She could always rely upon her right arm, if nothing else, but short of a rope ladder tumbling from the ceiling, she lacked the means to get herself up.

She lay there for a while, looking up intermittently at the ceiling, the bulkheads and the lights. Even as dim as they were in this part of her room, the lights were irritating. "Computer, turn the lights off, please," she asked, and the room complied. Lying in the darkness, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. The desire was there, but the phantoms of ideas half-formed fluttered through her conscious thoughts, and the dialogue she held with herself became less rational, without a meaningful root in the present moment.

The chime of the door caused her to twitch and hurt as she tried to react by springing up out of bed. "Ah! Ouch! Computer, lights!" She made a desperate effort to sit up, clawing at the bedsheets with her right hand, but she didn't want to move. "Who's there?"

"Counselor T'uni has activated the door chime," the computer responded as the lighting level in the room rose.

"Come in."

T'uni entered the room, and the sight of Tw'eak floundering in an effort to stand up straight made her move quickly to her friend's side. "You may remain still. I am unconcerned with your appearance, unless you require medical-"

"Just help me up, please?" Tw'eak reached an arm out to T'uni, who placed her shoulder under Tw'eak's and helped to lift her into a sitting position, then to a standing one. "Thank you."

"Now what?" T'uni asked.

It was a valid question. The nearest seat was in the next room, and it wasn't even at her desk. In the meantime her joints cried out for the comforts of bed. "I'm not sure," Tw'eak acknowledged. "I was hoping you'd figure it out."

"Please allow me to return you to your bed."

"It's no place for a captain."

"You are not on duty. It is illogical for you to hold yourself to the standards of duty when you are medically incapable of performing such duty."

"Is it really now?" Tw'eak tried to stand, but she felt herself roll hard into T'uni, who caught her and eased her gently back into a seated position on the bed.

"You need not worry about propriety and the standards of conduct. Let me assure you that I have intervened in worse crises during my service as a ship's counselor."

Tw'eak rolled onto her back, using her right arm and T'uni as her strength. She was careful not to bump her sensitive antennae against the headboard of the bed. They were tucked in near to each other in a pose characteristic of embarrassment. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"I am not. You quickly forget that I have known you in worse states before." She sat down upon the edge of the bed as she recalled. "When I came to visit you after your injury in combat on stardate-"

"Look, what I mean is, I'm sorry you have to be my ship's counselor at a moment like this."

"I do not understand. You yourself requested me for this posting personally."

"And I'm sorry I did." Tw'eak felt herself growing impatient.

"Am I not performing adequately in the role?"

"That's not it."

"I have received no indications from you previous to now-"

Exasperated, Tw'eak lashed out. "Damn it, T'uni, I don't want anyone to see me like this. But especially not you." She raised her right hand to her face, unable to roll and turn away.

"I understand. You are rarely comfortable in a state of physical weakness."

"It's more than that. I feel... I don't know, I feel like I'm slowing down or something. Getting weaker as time goes on." She waved her hand around. "Like everything is just going past me all the time."

"I do not believe that to be the case. You were more than a match for those Hirogen. You handled yourself in an admirable fashion. And you safeguarded the lives of the vast majority of this crew."

"We lost a lot of good people - pilots, technicians, officers. If I hadn't listened to one of them, I'd be part of a Hirogen's trophy cabinet by now," Tw'eak sighed. "Good people. I knew a lot of them. I don't know if I want to anymore."

"I... don't understand."

"There was a time when an officer like Shepard Clark or Tucker Sharpe would've been the kinds of people I would've befriended, would've been close to, been inseparable. But I've lost so many friends over the years that I don't want to get too close to anyone any more."

"Ah. Now I understand. You are attempting to compensate for future casualties by insulating yourself from developing any attachment to them at all."

"That's it."

"That makes no sense." T'uni shook her head. "Your efforts will clearly be in vain - and even if you are successful in shielding them from you, they will formulate their own perceptions and understandings of you as their commanding officer. Chances are that their perceptions will be far different from what you may expect. They may find you to be cold, unpopular, perhaps even incompetent."

Tw'eak narrowed her eyes. "You're saying they won't trust me."

"Precisely. They will not know you. Leadership requires you to set the example. Besides which, you already do set the example. Are you aware of the high opinion in which Lieutenant Doucette holds you?"

"Yes," Tw'eak admitted. Aurora Doucette's attitude towards her captain varied between fawning and adulating. Sharpe had once referred to her as "the captain's puppy" in jest, perhaps a step too far, but it fit. Aurora's capability and resolve in combat situations during ground missions was exemplary, second only to Octavia as a combat engineer in all of Tw'eak's experience. Still, there was no denying that Tw'eak was a role model for the emerging leader and officer that Aurora was becoming, and even Tw'eak herself had to admit as much. "It's a bit much to deal with, actually."

"Of course. Such attentions always are - but for both parties. After all, were you to lose your temper or speak harshly to her, imagine the repercussions. She would never look at you the same way again."

"That's not the same thing as keeping to myself, reserving my counsel, that sort of thing. Captain's prerogative, of course, but I can never let myself get close to anyone."

T'uni gave her commanding officer a withering look. "Are you referring to sexual activity?"

Tw'eak nearly sat up. "No! No. No, I can't." She shook her head. "Well, not the proper Andorian way, anyway. Maybe that's part of it." T'uni looked confused. "All that time I spent among your people and you never researched mine?" Tw'eak snarked in reply.

"On the contrary, I am attempting to ascertain whether you mean reproductive sexual activity, what among your people requires four bondmates and is known as the _shelthreth_."

"Yes. I can't, you know that. I don't carry what I need to be part of the _shelthreth_. It should start with me, but something, whether it's genetic or something I was exposed to... I can't have children." Tw'eak felt her emotions start to overwhelm her. It was not a topic she addressed easily. "I've known for all my service in Starfleet. I can never be Whole."

T'uni pointed considerately at Tw'eak. "That phrase has a specific meaning in Andorian culture. To live as part of a bonded group, as a family, is to be Whole."

"And without the Whole, there is nothing. Yeah, I know."

"Is this part of what motivates you to take such risks in combat, do you suppose?"

"I don't know. I used to think like Octavia thinks, that this was my family, this crew. But that makes me the matriarch, and I'm just not okay with having buried so many of my children anymore, if that's what they're supposed to be." Tears ran down Tw'eak's face, despite her best efforts to stop them, and her voice became very quiet. "I wasn't built to be Whole."

"Is this perhaps part of the reason why you rejected Andorian customs? You lived on Vulcan for some time."

"Yes. when my Time of Knowing arrived, to learn my bondmates, the Eveste Elders, the people in charge of arranging the _shelthreth_, arranged for me to meet with a chirurgeon to have tests and to be sure that I could be bonded. The tests revealed that I have Sh'landas Syndrome." T'uni began to speak, but Tw'eak held up her hand. "It's okay. At least it is now. But at the time, finding out that if I was part of the bond we would never have children... it was devastating for all of us. There are few things worse you can do to a _shen_. I felt an outcast among my own people. So, I left." She shook her head. "I keep in touch with them, you know, from time to time. They have lots of beautiful children together. And me? I took my syndrome to Vulcan and tried not to feel anything for a while."

T'uni made a bit of a noise, then said, "As I am a Vulcan whose job it is to assist and to support the crew with their emotional balance, it has been pointed out to me on several occasions that my service in this position constitutes a considerable irony. Ensign Chowalski once told me it made as much sense as having a Saurian for a hairdresser."

Tw'eak smiled through her tears, appreciative. "It's a point I can understand. Anyway, I just feel out of place everywhere, especially now that I'm in command. I feel like it's easier to hide, like it's easier to get in harm's way." She laughed. "I kind of envy my sister, Dashii. She's so much more... into that sort of thing than I am. She meets the right guy - whoever he happens to be in the moment - and she just goes for it, even though she has a bond group of her own back home. I wouldn't know the right guy if I fell over him in the corridor."

"To be fair, it would be inappropriate for you to indulge in a relationship with anyone onboard while they are under your command."

"I know that, but even if I could, I wouldn't know where to start. I mean, how exactly am I supposed to go about finding someone who won't ask about my scars, who doesn't mind coming a distant second to my duties and responsibilities, who doesn't care that I'm in harm's way so much of the time?" Tw'eak touched her ridged forehead and considered for a moment. "I mean, maybe I'm better off alone."

"In the romantic sense, perhaps. I can offer little advice on the subject, as my own betrothal and marriage were conducted in the traditional Vulcan style, which perhaps makes me a worst-possible candidate to discuss an unorthodox relationship involving an infertile _shen_ Andorian female."

Tw'eak smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, yes."

"But I know you have attempted to engage in relationships with others, notably Captain Shon, whose path we recently crossed in the combat over Mylasa VII."

"Va'kel and I go back a long way, but not like that. He was already bonded when we were at the Academy together, and I wasn't about to become a fifth warp nacelle. We've always had a competitive interaction with each other, though, and it would be nice to keep in touch. Of course, his bondmates and family were all killed or assimilated by the Borg on the Vega colony. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to try to start something that wasn't ever there before."

"It was just a suggestion."

"Besides, he'd love that. Oh, that just killed me, to know it was him coming to the rescue. Just what he's always wanted!" She chuckled to herself. "I would hate to hear him gloat about it now. And I'm sure he would, too."

"On the contrary. When I spoke to him earlier, he seemed most concerned about your well-being."

Tw'eak nearly sat upright in bed. "What do you mean, spoke to him?"

"You were unavailable, so I took the liberty of informing him that you were alive, recovering, and doing well."

"You did? What else did you tell him?"

"I provided few details, as I felt it would have been inappropriate."

Tw'eak seemed to deflate as she sank slowly back onto the bed. "I see."

"But he asked if it would be possible for him to pay you the compliments of a visit before the Belfast clears the Sol system later this week. I believe I recall him having referred to you as 'the heroine of the Mylasa system'. I advised him I would provide him with a response as soon as it was feasible."

"And when were you going to tell me all of this?"

T'uni arched an eyebrow. "It was the reason I came by. That, and to see how you were."

Tw'eak reached behind her head with her good arm and swung a pillow across towards T'uni, striking her on the side of the head.

"It's just the way I remember it," Tw'eak remarked to Aurora as she looked around her ready room. Her new ready room, she noted, on a replaced bridge module - first priority for the engineers handling the repairs on the Bonaventure.

Aurora smiled from where she stood on the opposite side of the desk. "Thank you, ma'am. I looked after everything myself - everything is just as you left it, except... I'm sorry about the carpet colour. According to my scans the previous ready room was a sort of 'haze blue' colour while this is definitely not."

"It's not a big concern," Tw'eak replied from where she had been seated, behind the desk of a room decorated in taupe rather than haze blue. "What matters more is what's going on out there." Just outside the door, bridge stations were being re-calibrated by bridge officers who tested and re-tested the simulated response of various systems. Out on the hull, the duranium plating was being refitted and repaired, in a couple places including sections from within the saucer which had been compromised by impact. Down in the flight deck, old pilots were breaking in new pilots, runabout bays were being refilled by repaired or replaced shuttlecraft, and the Bonaventure was slowly returning to normal. Tw'eak looked up at Zed, who was busily scanning her with a medical tricorder. "Everything all right?"

"Your tendons and cartilage are no worse for the trip up here, and your back is healing nicely," he answered. "Even the few stumbles you made... you seem to be recovering very well."

"Are you sure you're comfortable, ma'am?"

"I'm sure I'm not, Aurora, but thanks."

"If you just don't stand up for any reason, and leave your chair facing this way-"

"I suppose this rules out going to the bathroom," Tw'eak joked.

Aurora looked like she was about to faint. "Oh no! I hadn't thought of that. Okay, let me get-" She started to move around the side of the desk. "You have to? Right now?"

Tw'eak raised her right hand. "Relax, I was kidding."

"But -okay, if you do, um... oh, I know. I can stay on the bridge while you're in here and if you need any help you can call me!"

Zed interrupted "To be fair, it should be a medically-qualified officer assisting the captain with-"

"Can we all please stop discussing my bodily functions for just a minute and remember our places, please?" Tw'eak tried to keep her voice quiet and soft, but an edge crept into her tone as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm not really looking for contingency planning at the moment, that's all. Why don't we say that, in the event of any... non-medical situations arising, I'll ask Counselor T'uni to join us? She's medically rated and more than capable. And she'll be on the bridge."

"Oh, good idea!" Aurora exclaimed. Zed nodded and smiled.

"That's assuming I can't ask Captain Shon for assistance, of course. He's a big boy, he can help."

Zed chuckled. "Of course." He patted Tw'eak on the shoulder. "You want anything for the pain?"

"No, I'll be fine. If I change my mind I'll let you know. But this is the clearest my head's been in days. I'm kind of looking forward to this."

"It's always nice to see old friends," Aurora mused. "I remember one time when my sister Bianca came to visit, when she was just out of the Academy, and she was sitting at the desk in my quarters when I came in, and she surprised the hell out of-" Aurora caught herself in mid-sentence, and stood straight, adjusting her uniform tunic. "It was nice, that's all, ma'am. Sorry."

Tw'eak smiled appreciatively. "Don't worry about it. I try not to let my sister onboard ship. She's a lot more... liberal about regulations than I am."

"Oh, that's not like Bianca at all- she's so straight-laced, always the good girl. I guess I am too, but I don't- oh, there I go again, always saying too much. Anyway, I should leave you to your meeting. Or date. Or, um, get-together, maybe?" Aurora realized suddenly that both Tw'eak and Zed were watching her, Tw'eak's expression bemused. "God, shut up, Aurora," she muttered to herself.

"It may surprise you to learn that at one point in her career, a young talkative shield distribution officer - an Andorian, as it happened - once got herself in trouble for talking too much around her superior officer."

"You did?"

"She did," Tw'eak corrected. "Although in her case it was because her superior officers didn't appreciate the simple pleasures of idle conversation."

"Oh, okay," Aurora gushed. "Well, um, I should go. Thank you, ma'am."

"Thanks for your help."

As Aurora exited the room, Zed let out a sigh. "She's like an out-of-control shuttlecraft... never know where she's going to end up."

Tw'eak laughed. "We all get nervous around the ones we admire."

"You're right," Zed replied. "She's a good kid."

"A good officer," Tw'eak corrected gently. "A very good officer. I'm lucky to have her - and you, as well. That action against the Hirogen... I wish I'd been there with you both. And Sharpe."

"To be honest, ma'am... well, may I speak freely?"

Tw'eak looked up, surprised. It wasn't like Zed to say much of anything. "Please. Sit down. Not sure how much time we have, but please."

Zed took a seat opposite Tw'eak, looked down at his hands, took a deep breath, and began. "I don't want to speak ill of Commander Sharpe, or his leadership. I mean, I know -that is to say, scuttlebutt has it that you've put in commendations and he might be my captain some day soon, but-"

"Commendations for you and Aurora both, I should add. Not that I like to confirm scuttlebutt, of course."

"Of course." Zed smiled a smile that barely cloaked his mixed feelings. "And thank you. But still, I feel like Sharpe made a mistake in splitting us up. It's not something I feel you would've done - not against an enemy of unknown strength, anyway."

Tw'eak raised a finger to her mouth and considered it. "It's a fair move, especially given that there was no contact with anyone and little idea of where you'd wound up. But yes, given his position and the officers in question, I would've wanted to keep the marines together as a fire team and work to support them."

"Exactly what I thought."

"That still doesn't mean that they wouldn't have split you up anyway. They were beaming you all out left, right and centre. I don't see any reason - at least, not from the reports - why remaining a team of six would've made you less of a target. Might've invited more Hirogen in a bigger ambush, and maybe all six of you don't make it back. Who knows."

Zed nodded. "I see what you're saying."

"Sharpe made his decision, a combat decision, in the moment. And he, and you and Aurora, and all those who died, fought their hardest to prevail. It's part of the reason I chose to affirm, and commend, in my reports rather than critique any one person or group. I can't point to anything and call it a mistake."

"But-" Zed raised a hand. "Respectfully, of course. But I have to believe that we would've had a fighting chance as a group, maybe Eastochou would've come back alive."

"Maybe if Commander Sharpe had led the away team at that research lab, Lieutenant Commander Clark might still be alive."

This was something Zed clearly had not considered. "Ma'am?"

"Think about it. Shep thought he knew what he was doing, and he felt confident enough to try and ambush the Orion matron from behind. Maybe with Sharpe in charge he provides suppressing fire, or covers Sharpe, because he doesn't trust him on ground missions the way he trusted me."

"That's not really a fair statement, though."

Tw'eak raised her hand palm up. "Isn't it, though? Think about it. I have. I've been questioning it ever since he died." She lowered her hand. "Lieutenant Morl is a perfectly capable tactical officer, but not having Shep Clark at the tac station in the last battle meant I had to be sure I explained myself - at least, to myself. Shep was a creative tactical officer, found different ways to get things done. It might've meant we spotted those battlecruisers ahead of time." She shrugged. "Who knows. A wise Vulcan once told me that there are two parts of command: making the big decisions, and living with the consequences."

Zed was struck by the statement. "That's pretty deep. A philosopher?"

"No," Tw'eak replied with a wide grin, "Our ship's counselor." Her smile faded. "I'm fairly certain that, when Commander Sharpe, possibly soon to be Captain Sharpe, feels healthy enough to review his actions, he'll blame himself for Galbreth's death, maybe for Eastochou's and everyone else's on that mission. It never gets any easier. Not for him, not for you, not for me."

"You're right, of course." Zed stood up. "I'm sorry I troubled you with this, ma'am."

Tw'eak raised a hand. "No need. I need the perspective from someone who was there, after all. I was too busy leaping into hull breaches aboard ship to make my own impressions." Zed laughed at this, and Tw'eak continued. "But for what it's worth, the only person I can be certain about pointing the finger of blame at is right back at myself. It's a rare officer in this service who doesn't carry one of their own pointed at them, sometimes for infractions and incidents no one else has even heard of, let alone read a report about. We might as well affix one to the inside of every uniform in the service."

"I know exactly what you mean. I think that's a part of this, that I couldn't save Eastochou, that there were others I couldn't get to in time, like Galbreth."

"But you did get to Sharpe, Zolnaen. He's alive as a credit to your skill. You actually brought a person back from the dead. Not many combat medics can claim to have done that."

"Actually, ma'am, given the resources we have at our disposal, it's pretty rare for us not to-"

"Just take the compliment, would you?" Tw'eak waved the back of her hand towards Zed, as though she was shooing him from the room. "Take it."

"Very well. Thank you, ma'am." He turned to go, then looked back. "Thank you also for the commendation."

"Don't thank me for what you've earned, Lieutenant." She nodded. "And please tell Counselor T'uni to notify me once Captain Shon is aboard. I think I might close my eyes in the meantime." She tilted her head back in the chair.

"Certainly, ma'am." Zed made his way back onto the bridge, leaving his captain to her rest.


	12. Chapter 12

One of the downsides of being Andorian was that your eyes never shut, at least, not in the way a human, Vulcan or Tellarite might experience it. The antennae which Tw'eak had on her head were an extension of her nervous system and sensory system, capable of detecting electromagnetic fields, whether organic or synthetic, perceiving a greater depth of colour and light refraction, thus better depth perception, than her eyes could alone, and a greater depth of sound than her ears could by themselves. Even changes in air density and pressure could be sensed by them, a fact that Tw'eak reminded herself she had to ask Doc Ellington about after her decompression experience.

She could sense the room around her, a typically trapezoidal configuration running from the door outwards, with a seating area to her left and a small shelf on the wall next to a small door at right, which led to a room with a replicator, and an adjacent restroom facility. Aurora had done a typically efficient job of arranging everything as she remembered it. She could sense the resonance of the kut'luch which had nearly killed her, and which she had gotten mounted on a wood backing. She had kept it in her quarters until her promotion to captain, and now it was here, as a reminder of her fallibility. She could sense the unique signature of the one example of plasmonic sculpture she kept around, a blue-yellow effort that resembled a plume of fire, and she could vaguely sense the ongoing life in the two or three plants which she kept in the room. If she concentrated, she could tell which ones most needed watering.

The sound of her communicator startled her attention away from her plants. She opened her eyes. "Come in."

"I am in transporter room two, captain." It was T'uni's voice. "I am not at your door. I wanted to advise you that Captain Shon has arrived, and I will be escorting him up."

"Yes, of course." She took a brief look around, realizing that the door had not chimed. "Please do." She wanted to get up, to be standing when he came through the door. It became an unavoidable desire, but one she could not resolve herself to do - at least, not yet. Her tactical training had given her a sense of timing which, outside of combat, was little use other than planning surprise birthday parties and making wisecracks. She considered the timing involved, if T'uni and Shon proceeded directly from the turbolift, then it would take them approximately three and a half minutes to arrive on the bridge. However, at least thirty seconds had elapsed. Perhaps she should wait before they arrived to stand, as if by courtesy? But what if she stumbled? It would never do for the two of them to find her on the floor.

The door chime sounded, and Tw'eak deliberately pulled herself upwards by using the far edge of the desk. She gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise as she did so, conscious of the chime initiating voice communication with the awaiting guest on the opposite side. Once she was reasonably certain of her stability - and here again she appreciated the beneficial effects of having a pair of antennae with which to balance herself - she cleared her throat and said, "come in."

Into the room stepped T'uni, followed closely by a broad-shouldered, shaven-headed Andorian captain in a red Starfleet uniform tunic and split-tapered slacks. Va'kel Shon looked so different from the last time she had seen him. His hair was gone, for one thing - for another, his face appeared older, more care-worn. He was no longer the ambitious, idealistic cadet whom she had once knew, no longer the driven, dashing lieutenant whom she had kept in touch with distantly, then not at all.

"I believe you two know each other," T'uni said by way of introduction. She then looked at Tw'eak, clearly trying to read every last response on her face, from the tips of her antennae to the way she held her jaw. Tw'eak, for her part, kept a perfect poker-face in place, and looked at T'uni. "That was what humans know as an 'icebreaker'. I felt it would be an appropriate place for humour."

"We're Andorians, T'uni," Tw'eak responded. "We're the ones to ask about icebreakers."

Shon smiled, stepping forward, and extended his right hand. "It's good to see you again, Tw'eak."

Tw'eak shook Shon's hand. "Likewise, Captain." She said a quiet thank-you to him for having extended an arm she could reply with in kind, then looked over his shoulder at T'uni.

"Oh. I will be on the bridge, should you require anything." T'uni headed towards the doorway, leaving an awkward moment of silence between the two captains, before she turned back. "And I took the liberty of notifying Services that Captain Shon would be on board, in the event that the two of you wish to dine together."

Tw'eak's expression finally broke for an instance, her eyes opening wide, her antennae flaring, before she cleared her throat once again, catching herself. "Thank you, Counselor, that will be all." Staring at T'uni, Tw'eak narrowed her eyes slightly. For her part, T'uni arched an eyebrow, that vaguely impish look returning to her face, as she left the room.

"Well," Shon ventured, "you look like you've held up better than I've heard."

"That may depend on what you've heard," Tw'eak replied.

"T'uni didn't give me many details. Just that you'd nearly leapt from an airlock trying to save one of your officers."

"As it turned out, yeah, that's about it. I try not to think about it." Tw'eak tried to sit, but found that she couldn't move her hips without considerable pain. She remained standing as Shon sat down. "It'll be a couple more days before Doc Ellington thinks I'll be able to regain full mobility, then a good while before I'm ready for ground combat again."

"Ah, Doc. Still onboard, is she. That's good." Shon smiled as he made himself comfortable in the chair, then looked up at the still-standing Tw'eak, confused. "Um, you okay?"

"I don't suppose you could help me into my chair," she responded meekly.

Shon got to his feet and moved behind the desk, standing to Tw'eak's right and placing his left arm on Tw'eak's back while holding her right hand in his. "Slowly now. Steady. There we go." She sighed, relieved, as she sank into the chair. "Same old Tw'eak. Nothing's ever easy."

Tw'eak gave Shon a sly look and a flirty smirk. "That's twice lately you've had to come to my rescue."

Shon returned to his chair. "Not exactly. I had no idea you were engaged until we came in-system. The fact that the Bonaventure was the ship we were moving to assist was unknown to us - just the code words you were going to transmit."

"Yeah, and I almost believe that. Admit it, you had a little thrill run through you to see it was my ship that the Belfast was protecting."

"Nothing I wouldn't do for any fellow officer. You weren't even really in distress. As it was, you were able to get home under your own power. Your ship, I should say." Tw'eak chuckled at this, and Shon added, "I don't even know why we were all needed, to be honest."

"A precaution my first officer recommended. We were striking along with elements of a 'pirate' force - not really pirates, more like a liberation force that likes to hit slavers and free their crews. They would have been in way over their heads against a Hirogen force that size without us." Tw'eak thought for a moment. "As it is, by helping us stop the Hirogen from gaining a stronger hold in the Beta Quadrant, those 'pirates' did a lot more good than they would have by raiding another Orion war barge."

"Tell that to the captives on the war barge," Shon retorted.

"Yeah, fair point, but those Hirogen are a menace. Taking relics from the dead, trophies from the hunt..." Tw'eak suppressed a shudder. "No one should have to live in fear of that."

"I agree." Shon smiled. "And now we'll hopefully not have to worry about them again anytime soon."

Tw'eak could appreciate the sentiment. "You're probably right. I just... it's been quite difficult aboard ship lately. My tactical officer was killed on a mission just before we started our latest patrol. My first officer and sensor officer are both down for extended medical leaves, and will probably be reassigned. Two of my other senior officers were injured when the bridge decompressed. I don't know how that number wasn't greater." She sighed. "I feel like I'm cursed lately."

"The fortunes of war. Even the greatest warriors have periodic setbacks."

Tw'eak considered this for a moment, realizing she wasn't saying what she meant. "Do you ever get that feeling like you're afraid to get close to anyone?"

"Yes. It's lonely at the top of the command hierarchy onboard ship. It has to be. You can't risk it otherwise."

"I just feel like I put people at risk by finding them interesting, or caring about them. As soon as that happens... bam, tragedy. I was just starting to appreciate my tactical officer's ability on a ground mission, and he gets himself killed needlessly. I finally realize my first officer isn't just being disagreeable for the sake of it, and he's nearly a wall-mount for a Hirogen hunter."

"And what about... what was her name, your other officer?"

"Dazz?" Tw'eak found herself choking up a bit at the thought of it. "Dazz reminded me of my sister."

Shon searched his memory. "Sassil, right?" He shook his head. "No, you mean the other one. I thought HER name was Dazz."

"Dashii. I just talked to her the other day - she reminded me to listen to the ice while I was hunting."

Shon smiled, as he knew the phrase well. "Something I always try to do before engaging in anything - conflict or conversation."

Tw'eak found herself curious. "Oh? And what does the ice tell you in here?"

"That an exceptional captain with nearly the good tactical sense of my own ability is in a bit of a vulnerable state right now. That she's lost a lot of good people, and being good people herself, she wonders if she's next. And, of course, that she's got even more good people still on board who think very highly of their captain, and are probably hovering on the other side of that door hoping to find out 'how it went' as soon as I head back to the Belfast." Shon offered a friendly smile. "How am I doing so far?"

"Not bad." She returned his smile. "You always had the best situational awareness scores in the Academy, after all."

"And you were always the best at marksmanship."

Tw'eak nodded appreciatively. "I almost didn't recognize you. Your hair's so short."

"Yours is so much longer. We used to get mistaken for siblings, remember?"

Tw'eak laughed. "All the time. Like they thought all Andorians came from the same family or something."

"Well, those blue people all look the same," Shon joked. "Now if they'd only stop turning down the temperature controls in this room..."

"That's one good thing about having your own ready room, isn't it? It's always just the right temperature."

Shon laughed. "Absolutely."

Tw'eak looked at Shon, gave a serious thought to a rather desperate maneuver, and decided to go for it. "Va'kel... I know what happened to the Vega colony, and I wanted to say..."

"Don't." Shon looked a bit pained at the mention of the colony. "I know. I've heard it from everyone."

"But I understand it. I... you remember, how I don't have a bond group of my own."

"I thought of that, every now and then, after Vega. It might have been easier for me that way."

"No." Tw'eak wanted to stand up, but her attempt simply left her off-balance in her chair. "Don't talk like that. You don't know what it's like to have to live without a bond, to have a life that's not Whole."

"But I do, Tw'eak. I've been living it ever since that day."

"They could still be alive. They'd be Borg but that's not a permanent outcome anymore. Look at my operations officer. How many people have been liberated? There's still hope for you. There's none for me."

"The odds of that are astronomical."

"I know that, but..." Tw'eak stopped herself. "There's no sense arguing about which one of us is less Whole, is there?"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do. It's what I was trying to do for you, too." Shon's expression softened. "It's what we always do for each other."

"Yeah, but I do it better," Tw'eak joked. Shon laughed, and the tension left the room. "I don't suppose you'd actually be interested in having dinner." Her eyes twinkled. "I keep a supply of katheka for rare occasions - the genuine stuff, not replicated."

"I've developed a pretty strong fix for raktajino lately. It'd be nice to have an Andorian coffee instead of a Klingon one. Doesn't feel treasonous that way."

"Belfast to Shon!" Shon's commbadge suddenly came to life.

"Shon here. Go ahead, Kyona."

"Sir, we've received an urgent message from Starfleet Command. All available ships are requested to rendez-vous in the Dewa system."

"That's a long way from here."

"It's also where the new Romulan homeworld is," Tw'eak added.

"The Romulan Republic has received intelligence indicating that Dewa III is about to be attacked in force by an alien combatant. Starfleet wants to make a good showing."

"Will the Klingons be there, Kyona?"

"You can bet on it, sir." The growl in Kyona's alto Caitian timbre was unmistakable. "I've already laid in a course, we just need to beam you back."

"Inform Starfleet that the Belfast is en route. Lock onto my commbadge and prepare to beam me back."

"Aye, sir. Belfast out."

"Sorry I can't stay for dinner," Shon said after a disappointing moment.

Tw'eak tried to stand up, but faltered. Shon stood and moved to her side, helping her to her feet. For a moment she shifted, but it was a tactical shift, forcing him to save her. "There you go again," she said with a smile.

"You don't have to get up."

"But I wanted to." She looked up into his eyes. "For a while, back in the Academy, I wanted to believe there was something between us."

"I know." Shon's demeanour grew suddenly more distant. "I've always known... how you feel. I only wish things were different."

"You have someone else," Tw'eak inferred.

"It's not as simple as that. If I believe... if I really believe that they're still out there, enslaved to the Collective... then I have to fight for them."

"And that means not taking another as your own." Tw'eak straightened herself up, feeling intensely embarrassed.

"No. It's like you said before, about being close to people, about it being dangerous. My time is going to come, just as theirs did. One of these days, a storm will come, and I'll be... swept away in it. I've made it through many storms before, and will, to be sure, make it through many more. But sooner or later it'll be more than I can handle." He reached out a hand and caressed her cheek. "My bond group expected me to face the storm, but it swept them away instead. Some day it'll be my time. When it comes, I don't want anyone standing, as I have stood... alone, wondering if I made it through."

"There's a lot of time between those storms, though, Va'kel. We can face each storm together. When the time comes, maybe we..."

Shon looked into Tw'eak's eyes, as tears, of pain, of embarrassment, of longing, of all the loneliness and desperation she felt, cascaded down her cheeks. He put his arms around her, but instead of drawing her towards him as she'd hoped, he escorted her back to her chair. "I'll probably regret not taking you up on this, Tw'eak." She fought back, putting her good arm around him, trying to hold on, but he gently let her down and took a step backwards. Kneeling at her side, he continued. "I haven't let myself feel this much for a long time. Seeing you again brought it all out in me. Thank you. But I'm sorry. The storm is rising again." He stood up and stepped back from Tw'eak.

"Wait-"

He tapped his commbadge. "Shon to Belfast. Energize."

She reached out through the transporter beam. His eyes did not meet hers as he returned to his ship. For a long moment, lingering there, she could make out his electromagnetic silhouette with her antennae, or at least thought she could. She put her head in her hand and wept for a minute longer, before being slowly overcome by anger, frustration, rejection and loss. She wiped her face with her right hand, blinked a few times, shook her head, and made a combat decision.

"Sh'abbas to Octavia," she requested, her voice full of fury.

"Octavia here. Do you need anything?"

"Yes. Set a course for Dewa III and engage once we've cleared the yard."

"I'm sorry... did you say...?"

"Captain Shon has just departed. The Belfast is en route to join a Starfleet task force defending mol'Rihan. And so are we."

"We are not yet in an optimal condition for a return to combat duty-"

"You have my orders, Commander." Tw'eak's antennae flared, her voice clipped, her tone sharp. For the moment, her emotions were in command. "Maximum warp as soon as we're clear. Understood?"

"Very well. It will take some time to finalize all repair tasks, but I will see it done."

The door chimed, undoubtedly T'uni looking to talk. Tw'eak ignored it. "Thank you," she practically whispered into her commbadge. "Out." She lowered her head onto her desk, resting upon her right arm and cheek as she did so. The door chime sounded once, then twice more. Tw'eak continued to rest her head in her arm, tears still flowing down, until well after the ship's warp engines had engaged on a course for New Romulus.


	13. Chapter 13

_Captain's log, stardate 99123.6 - The Bonaventure is currently making good progress towards the Tau Dewa Sector Block, in order to provide the Romulan Republic with a much-needed reinforcement. Who the adversary is, and what strength they will be present in, remains unknown. I'm concerned that my crew aren't quite ready for combat... and if I'm honest, I have concerns about my own state of readiness. We'll do our best though in support of our new allies, ready or not._

The briefing room had the atmosphere of a funeral wake. Around the table sat a depleted complement of senior officers. Morl and Lio'wan sat next to T'uni on Tw'eak's right, while Aurora Doucette and Doc Ellington sat next to Octavia at her left. The mood was sombre as Tw'eak described her rationale for joining the call.

"I know that several of you have objections to my decision to return to combat readiness so soon after a major repair. I can appreciate that. But we have obligations to the Republic, and to Starfleet. All the ships in the fight are going to be short-staffed with few hands to spare. Ours will be no exception."

"Short staffed is one thing, ma'am," Lio'wan objected, "but we're only going to be able to field, at maximum, three flights of runabouts before we're out. I don't even know if we have enough qualified pilots to fly them."

"And there's the question of our phaser coils, our torpedo complement, and our shield generators," Morl added.

"We still have two EPS conduits to replace," Aurora listed, "and Chief Morkniar has assured me they'll be done within the hour, with no loss of warp efficiency."

"As to the generators," Octavia continued, "our overall shield regeneration rate is down approximately thirteen percent, which is an acceptable loss."

"Acceptable to Starfleet," Morl replied, then hesitated.

"Go ahead, Morl. I called this conference to get it all out in the open."

"Our shields will be down again within minutes if we are engaged by anything stronger than a frigate."

Tw'eak looked to Lio'wan. "Could we field shield repair drones as an alternative?"

"And lose our attack capacity?"

"We don't know what we'll be called upon to do. I could easily ask whatever admiral is commanding to allow us to be placed in a defensive or reserve position."

Morl snorted. "If such a thing is even possible. I have reviewed several scenarios involving a planetary attack by a fleet of starships in the absence of orbital defenses, where an assault on the planet, not on a facility in orbit, was the objective. My review included the Battle of Sector 001 as well as the Breen attack on San Francisco, among other examples. In all, the vast majority of the time, the attack succeeded because the defenders' projections of their objectives proved to be inaccurate."

"What are you saying, Morl?"

"The tactical advantages of a defensive position around a planetary position without fixed turrets or orbital defenses in place are minimal. We are already considerably below strength. There will be limited opportunity to provide meaningful reserve-level support unless either timing or sheer luck prove to be on our side."

Tw'eak leaned back in her chair. Rather than speak directly to Morl's point, she looked around the table. "Thoughts?"

"Sounds like I better go get sickbay ready," Doc Ellington said, rising.

"Wait a moment for that, Doc. Please."

Reluctantly, Doc sat back down as Lio'wan spoke. "He's right. A planet's a big target. And we don't know what they're after. We don't have any intel on their overall force, either."

"I may be able to provide some enlightenment on that point," Octavia replied. "I reached a contact of ours" - here she looked at Tw'eak - "to attempt to establish some further tactical data. The threat analysis they provided was sparse, to say the least, but the data described a new type of species of alien commonly known to the Rihannsu as the Elachi. They exist in subspace, where they maintain a fleet of starships and a series of stations. Their precise purposes are unknown, but they have been held responsible on multiple occasions for the disappearance of entire Romulan colony worlds." She tapped the desk interface and a display illuminated, showing a series of Elachi ships from side view, along with a brief description of their tactical strengths. "Their weapons are disruptor-based, known as a crescent beam, and they utilize subspace wakes and disruptions as part of the design of their projectiles. Republic intelligence currently has a series of operatives who are infiltrating and seeking further information about these Elachi, but they haven't reported back with anything more."

Tw'eak considered the display, as did Morl and Lio'wan. "I'll have to run a few projections, to see how we would fare against these ships," Morl replied after a moment.

"Same," Lio'wan added. "Doubt runabouts would be much good against those sorts of weapons, with those shockwaves."

"Did you get any kind of numbers?" Tw'eak asked Octavia.

"Nothing precise," Octavia replied, "but the word 'massive' was used."

"This is why we need to be there. We may not be at our most effective. We may not even be much good at all. But we'll do our best, all of us, at our own stations and in our own ways." Tw'eak took a long look around the table, at her assembled officers. "I have the utmost confidence in everyone at this table, and in this crew."

There was a fluttering motion of nervousness from around the table as anxious faces pressed their hands against each other, fidgeted in their chairs, and looked anywhere but at their captain's face. Tw'eak could sense the tension in the room, not just with her sense of intuition but with her antennae perception. It was raising the ambient heat and bio-electric glow present around them.

"Morl, you and Lio'wan take this data back to your stations and work out a plan. Octavia, how long until we arrive in the Dewa system?"

"At our present rate of speed, approximately three hours, forty-seven minutes."

"Aurora, I want you to tell the Chief that I want as many systems ready and hardened as possible in that time. Octavia, see if you can co-ordinate with the Chief, get it done."

"And now I can go get sickbay ready," Doc muttered as she stood and, without waiting for the order, made her way out.

"Let's all go get ready. Dismissed."

The officers took their turns to stand and leave. As she did, Octavia leaned forward and said, "During the forthcoming action, I should prefer to remain at Ops rather than in the first officer's station."

"Of course. You're only acting first officer for now, nothing official yet."

"Thank you." She rose and headed back to the bridge, leaving only T'uni sitting at Tw'eak's side.

"You ready to get me back on the bridge?" Tw'eak asked her after a moment.

"Not as yet," T'uni replied. "I should very much like an explanation as to why we are doing this."

"I already explained that."

"Yes, and for a non-Vulcan, such rhetorical answers would be sufficient. However, I require the reassurance of further evidence that our involvement will be either significant or indeed even required."

"I can guarantee you that, when the shooting starts, they'll be glad we're there."

"This also remains insufficient." T'uni's face was rigid, her expression flat. "There is another reason why. Is it the involvement of the Romulans?"

"Partly. I was just a young lieutenant on the Enterprise when these people lost their homeworld. I suppose I feel responsible for keeping them around, especially now that the Tal Shiar no longer has the same hold over them that it once did."

"Survivor's guilt," T'uni inferred.

"Now hold on, don't you start playing counselor with me."

"Vulcans never play, unless they intend to win. I will ask you again. Why is the involvement of the Bonaventure in the defense of New Romulus required?"

"Starfleet doesn't have enough ships."

"That is Starfleet's concern."

"Nor do the Romulans."

"That is the Romulans' concern."

"And I heard Shon's tactical officer provide an update-"

"Why was Lieutenant Morl not so notified by command, then?"

Tw'eak shrugged. "I suppose they didn't expect us to be ready. But we are, and-"

"We are not, Captain." T'uni handed Tw'eak a padd, showing crew dispositions. "Our first officer, chief sensors officer and chief navigator are all absent."

"O'Leary isn't on board?"

"He was extended a forty-eight hour leave on Earth. He was scheduled to return seven hours after we departed shipyard, along with eleven other crew members."

"Damn. Who's at the helm, then?"

"Ensign Chowalski."

"Oh. We'll be fine then. He's every bit as good as O'Leary, just more chatty. At sensors?"

"Ensign Vasna."

"Fine. Won't be the same without Dazz. But we'll get through."

"I sincerely hope so."

Tw'eak narrowed her eyes at T'uni. "What's this really about?" She inclined her head slightly. "You must have some idea of what you expect to hear me say."

"To proceed with discovery in a state of pre-judgement is not scientific, and therefore not valid."

"So what would validate you to hear, then? Tell me. That I'm after fame and glory, that I'm doing this at the risk of my ship and my crew for the good of the Romulans?" She waved her hand around as she spoke. "There's something you want to hear. Tell me what it is, maybe I'll give you an answer."

T'uni's lip twitched for a moment before she spoke, but her voice was perfectly clear. "It is my professional estimation that you are, in fact, jeopardizing the lives of yourself and your crew over an emotional reaction which Captain Shon's recent and rapid departure caused you."

"Not your 'reckless Andorian' hypothesis again. You think I would go off like this on a whim?"

"It would be consistent with your personality, and your feelings towards Captain Shon."

"My 'feelings' towards- I'll have you know that you're leveling a dangerous charge at me."

"It is not my intention. I had rather hoped to discuss your conversation in the hopes of making sense of it with you."

"It was a private matter."

T'uni arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. As ship's counselor, I cannot seek any further for my answer, then."

"Good."

"But as an officer under your command, and as your friend, I would be... disappointed to know that your decision was made not for some greater cause or greater good, but as an impulsive reaction to another captain's orders."

"They said 'all available ships', T'uni. We were available. You know me so well - you know I also don't like sitting around spacedock waiting for something to happen. It's not my style. Never has been."

T'uni cut in, making her move. "I would infer that your decision was made based either on a sense of competition between you and Captain Shon, or upon an intention to arrive at a point where he most needs rescue. The human expression is phrased, 'turnabout as fair play', I believe."

Tw'eak sat back, looking at the serious, concerned Vulcan face across from her. She had seen that face on the verge of laughter so many times, never to break from the staunch discipline she imposed upon herself. Now, her features looked so different - still as inscrutably emotionless as ever, but with knitted brows and a half-frown. Tw'eak felt herself start to waver, her resilience vanishing. She forcibly swallowed a choking sob which attempted to rise in her throat. "He... rejected me, T'uni." She looked down. "He said that he didn't want to take any risks with anyone who might care about him, like he'd rather just die alone in the fight."

"If I understand correctly, you have elected to take your ship into combat in order to see to it that he survives?"

"No, no," Tw'eak bleated.

"That would be most illogical."

"I wanted to show him that we're in this together, that I'm right along with him." She shook her head. "I know, that's illogical, too."

"Indeed, and also dangerous." T'uni tilted her head. "The likelihood of the success of this plan, presuming neither ship is destroyed and neither of you injured-"

"Don't. I'm not interested in the odds. And I'm not doing this out of some wild-eyed infatuation. Starfleet wouldn't ask for all available ships if it had any. We may yet be a vital part of the success of this mission. 'A ship in harbour is safe, but that is not what ships are for'. Another human expression."

"If I may, I believe you are 'climbing ice in the dark'."

"That's an Andorian expression," Tw'eak corrected, slightly pleased to hear it said aloud by someone other than her. T'uni merely stared at her, having made her point. "The human phrase would've been 'wild goose chase'. Besides which, all those other points about our duty and our responsibilities, they're all true. If we sit and wait for ideal conditions before we move out, we may not ever get going."

"Nevertheless, it remains incumbent upon you, as our commanding officer, to place the needs of the many ahead of the needs of the few, or the one."

"I will, believe me. We're going into this fight for the sake of the fight, not to be the personal escort of Va'kel Shon. It's a fight I intend for us to win, but I'm not going to run any unnecessary risks." Tw'eak chuckled. "Not like Morl will let me anyway."

"I am sorry to hear of this rejection. It was... not what I had hoped for you." T'uni stood and moved to Tw'eak's right side, to help her back to the bridge.

"Well, he had a point," Tw'eak acknowledged as she stood, her arm resting on T'uni for a moment. "I do care about him, quite a bit. He was right, I always have. He probably always has, too. But I don't want him to care for me, or anything else, if it's going to make him second-guess his instincts in combat or something like it, because he's worried he won't be coming back. It would certainly get my antennae in a twist if that were my dilemma to face."

"Is he aware that the Bonaventure will be at Dewa III?" T'uni took a step back, letting Tw'eak stand on her own.

"No, and I'd rather keep it that way. He doesn't know to check over his shoulder for me, and I'm not going to let myself check over mine for him. Just the way he wants it."

T'uni raised a hand to her mouth, puzzled. "I find it confusing how you can seemingly hold two completely contrary points of view in mind simultaneously. First you claim to care about him and not want anything to happen to him, then you claim to be indifferent towards his status during the forthcoming battle. I fully expect you will be regularly asking Ensign Vasna for updates regardless of our ship's condition, in the hopes of some illogical romantic outcome to spring forth in the midst of combat."

Tw'eak laughed. "I fully expect you're right. But I really am not worried. He and I have something in common: we fight for the ones we love. He fights for the ones he loves, and I fight for all those I've lost. We defend the Federation - and our Romulan allies, as well, against the Elachi or whoever it is next time. With us standing together with the Republic, well, who would want to stand against us?" She nodded towards the door heading to the bridge. "Come on, let's get going."

The bridge atmosphere was calm as Tw'eak emerged, T'uni at her side, from her ready room. Morl and Lio'wan were talking together at the tactical station. At the forward positions, Octavia was working at her terminal while Ensign Chowalski watched the helm. The other officers around the room were likewise engaged with their work stations, and the quiet hum of expectation rose throughout the room. Of the officers present, only Ensign Vasna, at sensors, looked up to see the captain on deck. No one rose, as might have been customary at one point in history, or called attention to Tw'eak's presence on deck. But as she made her way to her chair, she knew that they were watching her, aware, afraid to let her down. It was a sentiment she felt was mutual.

As she took her chair, Tw'eak felt herself quite conflicted about what she was doing. This wasn't like her, she told herself. To act so impetuously, to go after something like this... no, it was exactly like her. Typical reckless Andorian move on her part. She had fought against her tendencies to do this sort of thing in the past, but sooner or later it always emerged again. It was something she feared, something she dreaded, and something she could never keep herself from doing. It had led her to Vulcan as a younger girl, a result of the isolation she felt at knowing she could never be Whole. It had led her to nearly resign from Starfleet as an ensign in order to take part in humanitarian relief to the Romulans, her willingness to sacrifice her career in order to help another having become something of a theme. She had been convinced, utterly certain, that her commanding officer on the Repulse had been taken and replaced with an impostor. It had taken her weeks of subtle scans, clandestine discussion and no end of trouble to prove certain junior officers, including her chief medical officer, that the evidence backed her intuition, that she was not planning mutiny at all. But she had been right, and two of those officers died fighting the Undine which had replaced her captain. She herself had been injured as well. And all because she had followed her instincts.

Now her instincts had drawn her, and the crew she commanded, out of port and into harm's way. T'uni had been right - her intentions were less than perfect in issuing the order, her hurt feelings as much a motivation as her affirmations. That was no reason for a captain to order her ship into combat, and she knew it, but there were good reasons as well as bad ones for her to decide to leave port.

Tw'eak checked her navigational display on the armrest of her chair. The nearest inhabited system was the Veela system, the distance to the Tau Dewa sector block closing by the moment. "If anyone wants to take a quick dinner break, now's the time," she offered.

"If it's all the same to you, ma'am," Ensign Chowalski replied, half-turning, "I'd rather stay at my post."

"Same here," said Morl. "Much to be done."

"I would, if we had actual meat on board," Lio'wan snarled. "Replicated meat always tastes wrong, somehow."

"I know exactly what you mean," Chowalski said in reply. "Replicated beef, especially. I tried to replicate a steak once... didn't taste like steak."

"What did it taste like?" Lio'wan asked.

"I don't know. Like, did you ever have one of those field rations with the honey biscuits in them?"

"No."

Chowalski made a disapproving face. "Like it just... I don't know, it flakes off in your mouth. In little bits. Not juicy like a steak at all."

Lio'wan made a low, probably involuntary growl. "Yes," he affirmed.

"I personally find the taste of meat unpalatable," Vasna said with a gesture.

"Yeah, but you're Vulcan," Chowalski noted. "Now, you might like replicated fish. I don't know what it is, but to me, replicated fish tastes better."

"No, it doesn't," Lio'wan objected.

"You don't think so? Less of that smell. Actually tastes good. Maybe that's what the steak tastes like. Like replicated fish."

Tw'eak watched the conversation, bemused. She was more than willing to sit quietly and listen, if it meant her officers felt more comfortable.

"I think all replicated food tastes the same," Morl offered suddenly from where he stood next to Lio'wan.

"You think so?" Chowalski asked.

"Yes. All bad. None of it real. Vegetables I can't eat, grains that don't have the taste of grains... whenever I return to service I have stomach pains for weeks."

"Yeesh," Chowalski said, his face wearing a look of revulsion. "I never get that bad, but then, I don't often get non-replicated food."

"So how do you recognize steak being different from replicated steak?" Morl demanded. "If all food you eat is from a replicator, why is this food different from that? All bad," he repeated. "All bad."

"If you don't mind, Captain," Lio'wan interjected, looking towards the turbolift.

"Not at all. Go ahead." Tw'eak looked around. "Anyone else? Now's the time."

"Think I might go grab a quick snack if that's okay," Chowalski replied.

"Indeed," T'uni added, rising to her feet. "That would be appropriate."

"I thought you were going to say that eating is a logical idea," Tw'eak joked.

"Only real food," Morl interrupted. He did not lift his head from his tactical station and continued on working without apology, leaving Tw'eak and T'uni looking bemusedly at each other.

"Would you like anything, Captain?" T'uni asked.

"No, maybe it's for the best. Thank you."

"Very well."

Morl spoke again. "Captain, I am receiving a priority alert from Starfleet Command." He leaned in towards his work station more urgently. "Borg contact... the starships Anderlecht and Citizen are currently engaging..." Morl looked up, his voice sharp. "...Sirius Sector Block, near the P'Jem system."

"P'Jem?" Tw'eak looked up at T'uni. "That's nearly in Andorian space!"

"And quite close to Vulcan as well," T'uni replied as she sat back down. More softly, she added, "We are already on course for a major defensive engagement."

"As much as I admire the Romulans, they're going to have to wait, aren't they."

"Indeed. But what of Captain Shon? Perhaps we should signal him to-"

"No. I told you before, I don't want him to know we've left spacedock. Now if we're going to do this, then let's-"

"Captain?" Morl looked up from his station. "Starfleet Command is requesting our position and status."

"Really?"

"Yes. The message only just caught up with us. Subspace transponder tags indicate the message has been out from Earth through to Starbase 39 and out this way."

"They want to know if we're operational, no doubt. Advise them that we will be proceeding at maximum warp to intercept with the Borg contact." She looked towards Chowalski. "Alter course."

"Aye, ma'am," Morl responded.

"Course change laid in and engaged," Chowalski acknowledged.

Tw'eak turned to T'uni. "It never rains but it pours."

T'uni looked to Tw'eak. "A Vulcan expression."

"No, human. Why?"

"Vulcans have a similar phrase. However, as Vulcan is a desert world with little annual rainfall-"

"Captain, I'm receiving another hail," Morl advised. "It's the Belfast."

"On screen."

The face of Va'kel Shon snapped into sight on the main viewscreen. "There you are, Bonaventure. Didn't expect you to be out of port. Starfleet Command sent a subsp-"

"I know. They're looking for us." She caught herself before she spoke too freely. "We're moving to intercept an... enemy contact."

"A Borg contact. I know. And I know where, too." Shon looked at Tw'eak, distraught for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at his navigational display. "We're just getting to Dewa. Damn. I should be there."

"Not to worry, Shon. Proceed as normal." She looked past Shon, giving a general nod of the head to the Romulan Republic. "Our allies will need you." She smiled. "Do your best."

"Same to you." There was a silent beat as Shon looked at her, frowned slightly and raised his chin a little. "Good luck, Tw'eak."

"Same to you, Va'kel. And to us all. Bonaventure out." The communication ended, and Tw'eak turned to Chowalski. "Time to intercept?"

"We're a lot closer to P'Jem than we are to Romulus- I mean, New Romulus." Chowalski gave a nervous laugh. "Closer than to Romulus, too."

"That's not a time, Ensign," Tw'eak said flatly.

"Thirty-nine minutes, Captain," Octavia interjected.

"Thank you." She turned to T'uni, who was still staring at the viewscreen, watching the stars streak by. "Recognize that look?"

T'uni said softly. "It was a look of regret."

"Like he's never going to see me again."

T'uni looked at Tw'eak. "It would be presumptuous to infer that from a facial expression."

"Well, presumptuous or not, it's our farewell for now." She smiled. "So much for- what did you call it? 'Some illogical romantic outcome springing forth'?"

T'uni arched an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Tw'eak leaned back and looked up at Morl. "Well, Lieutenant? If we weren't ready for the Elachi... can we handle this?"

Morl looked at Tw'eak, frowning doubtfully, aware that Chowalski was listening intently. "I hope so, Captain."

"Captain, may I speak with you for a moment?" Octavia asked.

"Of course." Tw'eak waved Octavia towards the first officer's chair. As she sat, Tw'eak spoke first. "You know you don't have to ask permission. As acting first officer, I welcome your input at any time."

"I would like to request permission to return to the arboretum in order to regenerate for thirty minutes."

"Granted." Tw'eak smiled. "Never thought to ask you if you wanted to take a break. I'm sorry."

"I'm reasonably certain that the coming action will be a difficult one. And it would be nice to check on the roses for a quick minute."

T'uni leaned closer to Tw'eak. "Should you require any emotional or psychological support during the forthcoming action, please do not hesitate to ask. I understand how facing the Borg again may cause you... apprehension."

Octavia looked from T'uni to Tw'eak, then back to T'uni. "I will be fine. Thank you."

"Go, go," Tw'eak said, waving a hand towards the door. "You'll be back up here to meet them, promise."

"Thank you," Octavia repeated as she headed towards the turbolift.

Tw'eak tried to stand, then succeeded with T'uni's help. "All right, Morl. Give me a full tactical analysis. I want us to be as ready as we can be in thirty minutes." She moved towards Morl's console, with T'uni at the ready, as Morl brought up the display showing the Bonaventure's current status across all weapons and defensive systems.


	14. Chapter 14

_Captain's log, supplemental. Our initial intention, to join the Starfleet task force presently assembling over mol'Rihan, has been altered by necessity. The presence of the Borg anywhere within a thousand light-years of the heart of the Federation requires our intervention, with all of our might. This unexpected incursion will take all we have in order to stop them. I only hope it will prove to be enough._

The co-ordinates indicated a space not immediately within the gravitational effect of the star around which P'Jem orbited. The targets, however, were clearly marked on the sensors. A series of Borg vessels, ranging from probes to cubes, had emerged in a cloud of plasma and radiation, and held their position. Around them lay the wreckage of the Nebula-class starship Anderlecht and the Zephyr-class Citizen, as well as the debris from the explosion of the Galaxy-class Memphis and a few of the spheres and probes. Four other starships - the Defiant-class Mosquito, the Sovereign-class Algiers, the Stargazer-class Chagall and the Intrepid-class Forrest - were also engaging Borg targets. At the edge of this space, having just come out of warp, was the USS Bonaventure.

"Contacts ahead," Vesna reported from sensors.

"Steady on." Tw'eak turned to Morl. "Any response to our hails?"

"None, except from the Borg."

Tw'eak took a last look around her bridge at her assembled officers. "Give me ship-wide comms, Morl."

Morl tapped a few buttons then said, "Go ahead."

Tw'eak took a moment to compose her thoughts, then began. "This is the captain speaking. We are about to engage the Borg. For some of you, this is your first time facing them. For all of us, we hope it's for the last time. The Borg represent a threat to the Federation, to our homes and our loved ones, to our very civilization. I trust that each of you, whether you are Vulcan or Caitian, Rigelian or Pakled, Tellarite or human... you will hold in your hearts the memory of those for whom we are fighting. And in this way, we will all stand together against the unspeakable darkness that the Borg represent. Be quick at your stations; be clear in your orders; be ready for anything. Most of all, be without fear. Trust in this ship, in your crewmates, and in your abilities... and may none of them let you down. That is all." She nodded at Morl, who closed the intra-ship communications.

"Well said, ma'am," Lio'wan remarked.

"Yes, quite," T'uni added.

Morl stepped out from behind his station and presented Tw'eak and T'uni with hand phasers in belts. "Here, ma'am. All personnel have been issued with hand phasers that have been attuned with frequency remodulators."

Tw'eak had T'uni help her affix the holster to her belt, on her right side. "Thanks. Good precaution." She drew the phaser from its holster, checked its setting and battery, and aimed at a point just to Octavia's right. "I'd rather have a rifle if it comes to that, but it won't."

"We hope," Morl added. "I've posted additional security forces in sensitive areas. They will have rifles." Morl leaned in. "Special autocarbines from Task Force Omega, in fact."

"Excellent. Thank you, Morl."

Tw'eak looked around the room once again. All of her officers, whom she now noticed were wearing phasers at their hips, prepared their stations for the coming action. Octavia, however, seemed to be tilting nearly to the point of falling out of her chair. "I can- Captain." She turned to look at Tw'eak. "I can hear them."

Tw'eak gave Octavia a look of anxious expectation. "They're not overpowering you, I hope."

"Not at all. I knew this might happen, but to be honest I'm kind of relieved that I can. There are no secrets between Borg. I have access to their encrypted-level planning and discussion."

"What is their plan?"

"They are continuing with the plan regardless of resistance." Octavia turned back to her station, setting the viewscreen to focus on an empty region of space. "Here."

"What's there?" Lio'wan asked.

"I see nothing," Morl added.

"They are attempting to establish a subspace nexus. If they are successful, they will be able to utilize this nexus in order to link to a conduit through transwarp. In essence, they are attempting to break in behind the lines."

Tw'eak looked to Morl. "Notify Task Force Omega immediately. Admiral D'Vak must be informed."

"I'll try. We're starting to encounter Borg magnetic fields and subspace interference."

"Vesna?"

"The subspace interference is centralized in an area-" Vesna looked up at the screen and pointed. "Essentially, there."

"Okay. Let's hope that-"

"Two -make that three ships have just entered sensor range. They are the Lafayette, the Perseus and the Anaconda."

Tw'eak tapped her upper lip. "Two escorts and a light cruiser. Octavia, come here a second."

Octavia stood up from her station and moved quickly to the first officer's chair. "Yes?"

"The Borg, this plan of theirs... Can we stop them?"

"Based upon my analysis, if we can disrupt the subspace tunnel with a charged particle beam, within the next seven minutes, we may be able to prevent the Borg from completing their task. However, that will require us to make our way to the centre of their formation - a formidable task even for a starship at full strength."

Tw'eak looked to T'uni, who nodded. Tw'eak asked, "Captain Picard was once able to direct a fleet, using his knowledge of the Borg, in order to neutralize them more rapidly. Can you do the same?"

"I do not presently know if-" Octavia fluttered a bit as she heard more of the Borg's transmissions. "Actually, ma'am, I can. Easily."

"Morl - turn targeting over to Ops. Signal the fleet to form up on us and direct their telemetry at our selected target." Tw'eak smiled at her operations officer. "Lio'wan, launch shield repair units."

"Shield drones away... and operational."

Octavia returned to her chair and Tw'eak switched her chair's display from navigational to targeting. She watched as Octavia selected an area of seemingly little importance on the nearest Borg cube. Cutting beams and plasma bolts crossed on the viewscreen, but the Bonaventure went unharmed right through the centre of them. Since Octavia knew they were targeting her, she made evasive corrections and altered her headings rapidly. The Borg vessels seemed to be concentrating their fire upon the Bonaventure, as if they knew their time was short. This gave other ships, including some which had been damaged, an opportunity to get into formation behind the Bonaventure and synchronize their targeting plan.

"Several ships are too far away and at least one is breaking off," Morl notified the captain. "Most have reported back ready and are breaking off their attacks to join with ours."

"Octavia, you may fire when ready." Tw'eak turned to Morl. "Advise all ships to fire when we do."

"Aye aye."

The Bonaventure's forward phasers, and her fore torpedo banks, opened up. As one, six Federation starships opened fire on the same position from their respective angles. Within a matter of seconds, the Borg cube they had targeted began to buckle and implode. The Bonaventure led a formation of starships past the first, as Octavia swooned slightly in her chair, then input a second set of target co-ordinates.

Once again, the Bonaventure led the charge, its shield repair units having to now contribute a pulse of energy as the spheres and probes began to hone in on the lead ship of the formation. Directly behind them, not engaging in the fighting but providing shield power transfer to the Bonaventure, rose the Algiers for just long enough to pinch off a salvo of quantum torpedoes, devastating a sphere that was firing upon the Bonaventure. Another cube exploded as the fire from six Starfleet vessels formed a pyramid of death aimed straight at a lower quadrant of its hull. As the blast began, their captains fearful of the force of the shockwave, the Mosquito and Perseus broke formation to commence targeting the lesser craft. The Lafayette followed suit, picking off one of the probes just as it began to launch a torpedo towards the Bonaventure. The boxy probe's detonation also caused the torpedo to explode, leaving the Lafayette with its shields down on two sides, a plasma fire enveloping its starboard nacelle as it swept past.

"The Lafayette has been badly damaged by an exploding probe," Vesna reported.

"They'll have to look after themselves," Tw'eak noted grimly. The firing solution came in from Octavia yet again, and the starships in formation let fly with their barrages, pummelling a third cube and moving past as it exploded. This time a few of its plasma bolts struck home. "Status?" Tw'eak demanded.

Octavia half-turned her head. "That last Cube chose to self-destruct rather than be destroyed. It appears they know I'm listening, Captain."

"There are plasma fires across the front of the hull," Lio'wan advised. "I can't launch anything until they're out."

"O'Leary, ready the hazard emitters."

Chowalski turned to Tw'eak. "Ma'am?"

"Sorry, Chowalski. Hazard emitters, please."

Chowalski gave Tw'eak a smile and a wink. "No worries, ma'am, I can get those fires out." He tapped at his console and added, "Transferring power from auxiliary to shields as well."

"Good."

Across the hull, the Borg plasma bolts showered down across space. Rather than directly targeting anything, the Borg were trying a new tactic, firing a scattered volley of plasma across space in the hopes of hitting the Bonaventure and the other ships in the formation Octavia led. This made it harder to evade the targets, although the cutting beams and Borg torpedoes had little success using this method. Two of the spheres which were engaging the Bonaventure found themselves engaged in turn by the escort formation led by the Mosquito, and they were rapidly destroyed. The Algiers accounted for another two probes, still tightly focused on sustaining their shields as well as those of the Bonaventure. As the plasma rained down, the Bonaventure's hull began to glow a bright green as a tachyomagnetic field began to emanate across its surface, polarizing and neutralizing the plasma's energy as it contacted the hull. For a few moments, at least, the Bonaventure was immune to the effects of the plasma fires, and the last of them was snuffed out.

"Launching shield drones," Lio'wan snarled with satisfaction.

"Nice work, Chowalski," Tw'eak acknowledged.

"Two cubes on an intercept course!" Morl shouted. "Range, seventeen thousand kilometres!"

"Evasive maneuvers, pattern Lambda-nine!"

"Aye!" Chowalski replied from the conn. The Bonaventure coasted as he cut the main thrusters and turned the ship hard over to port, then pushed to full impulse. "We can't outrun them, ma'am."

"No, but we can continue locking up targets for everyone else." Tw'eak turned to Morl. "Order the fleet to engage their own targets."

"General engagement, aye."

Tw'eak looked at each of her officers in turn as she called their names. "On my mark - Chowalski, I want hard over to port, and Morl, mask our energy field. Vesna, that'll mean no active scanning for thirty seconds. Lio'wan, have our shield drones proceed to our starboard side, and prepare to launch some new ones. That'll mean you'll be on your own to boost the shields, Stral - get them equally distributed as soon as you can. Octavia, you okay?"

"I did not believe the Borg were capable of such desperation. They are quite prepared to sacrifice themselves to complete this mission."

"Good thing we're quite prepared to stop them." Tw'eak looked around. "Ready?"

All of her officers nodded in the affirmative. Morl's voice was a sombre reminder of their mission. "The Chagall has been destroyed."

"Let's do this, then. On my mark. Three - two - one - mark!"

The Borg cubes slowed as the Bonaventure seemingly disappeared from their sensors. As the shield drones separated from their main ship, continuing on a pre-programmed course, the cubes, pestered by Starfleet vessels the whole way, found themselves firing their cutting beams and tractor beams into empty space. A plasma energy bolt fluttered towards the shield repair units, detonating and destroying all of them in the process. From the far facing of the cube furthest from this explosion, the Bonaventure re-appeared.

"Targeting both cubes," Octavia acknowledged.

"Fire at will," Tw'eak ordered.

Morl nodded. "Signaling fleet."

First one, then the other, began to course with greenish-blue flames as their internal mechanisms were overcome and their energy transfer matrix destroyed utterly. The unfortunate USS Anaconda attempted to maneuver a path between the explosions, only to be absorbed and destroyed by a shockwave from each. The same shockwave catapulted the Bonaventure to port, throwing it off course.

"Best speed, Chowalski. Get us to that rupture point."

"On our way," the helmsman acknowledged.

"Time, Octavia?"

Octavia turned her head, grimacing.

"Ma'am? Something just came up on sensors," Chowalski stated with alarm.

"That's not your job," Morl sneered.

Chowalski turned his head. "Navigational sensors. There's an obstacle, roughly rectangular, almost twenty kilometres by one by one. It's huge and it just popped in there."

Octavia spun around in her chair. "The Borg were successful in opening a subspace rift in the Alpha Quadrant. This vessel is currently holding it open."

"Vessel?" Chowalski said, bewildered. "That thing's bigger than Earth Spacedock!"

"Nevertheless, it is imperative that we destroy it."

"Before how long?" Tw'eak asked.

"Uncertain. Borg reinforcements may arrive at any time. However, the subspace nexus is not yet stabilized at this end. Our target has been tunneling through subspace to create the nexus, but it has yet to fully complete its task."

"We destroy the ship and we seal the tunnel," Tw'eak mused. "Right?"

"Precisely, Captain."

"That ship is launching probes," Morl declared. "Smaller ones. Powerful."

T'uni tapped Tw'eak on the leg. "It may not be wise to engage such a vessel at our current strength. We know the Borg are aware of our advantage. They will be focusing on us."

Tw'eak shook her head. "You heard what Octavia said. If we don't hit them now, we may never stop them."

"Seven more ships just arrived," Morl noted with relief. "Four escorts, two of them Prometheus class escorts, and another heavy escort carrier, the Ranger. Two assault cruisers, the Majestic and the Musashi."

Tw'eak's eyes opened wide and her antennae tilted inwards. "The Majestic?" She turned to T'uni and whispered, "Dashii is on that ship."

Lio'wan broke the captain's silent staredown of her counselor. "Shield repair units are back in place. Shield power rising."

"Shields at eighty-two percent," Stral noted.

"Ask the Ranger to form up with us and provide us cover while Octavia acquires targets for the fleet." Tw'eak raised her arm. "Maybe one of those cruisers can cover us, too." She pointed to the only Majestic-class starship in the system as it came into view on the screen, just ahead. "That one. Hail them, Morl."

"Aye aye."

Lio'wan chuckled to himself. "Indeed."

Tw'eak looked over at her flight officer. "Lio'wan?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Should I scramble Alpha Flight?"

"Yes, please. Bring in those repair units. Morl?" She turned to her tactical officer. "Ask the Ma- uh, the cruiser to extend its shields and support us. Advise them we're not quite in our usual fighting form."

"Will do."

The escorts broke into two formations, each concentrating around the leadership of one of the powerful Prometheus-class escorts. One, the Swiftsure, took its group (which included the Mosquito) on a strafing run across the nearest side of the massive Borg vessel, while the other, the Iroquois, maneuvered to engage the probes which were providing regeneration to the main craft, and locking its targets in shield-draining tractor beams. The Algiers led the way as the rest of the starships in the formation moved to more closely engage the Borg vessel, while the Ranger and Majestic came into a tight formation with the Bonaventure.

Tw'eak noticed her acting first officer sitting very still, staring at the viewscreen. "Octavia? What do you have?" she wondered.

She shook her head. "Nothing. I have no signal at all, nothing to -it's like they've gone silent."

"Maybe they have."

"At least, where you can hear them," Lio'wan added. He tapped one of his large feline ears.

"Another frequency?"

"I may not be able to attune my implants to alternate frequencies," Octavia noted. "I've never really tried. But let's see." She tilted over her console, in some pain, her jaw hanging open for a moment. "I have them now, again."

"Anything to target?"

"No, ma'am. But we have to engage them. I have an indication of time. They will be able to discharge a directed verteron pulse sufficiently large to pierce into subspace in approximately four minutes, thirty-eight seconds." She turned to Tw'eak. "The effects would most likely cause our warp field coils to-"

Tw'eak turned to her tactical officer, not letting Octavia finish. She knew what kinds of effects a break in subspace would have upon her vessel and the surrounding space. "Morl, tell the fleet - focus all attacks on nearest side. They must restrict fire to one side only. If we can weaken their shields in one spot maybe we can get a shot at their hull more easily, create another soft spot for Octavia to find."

"The fleet is engaging," Morl advised.

"Good. Us, too - let's do this."

"The captain of the Forrest on channel, ma'am."

"Audio only. I want to see what's going on."

"Bonaventure, this is Captain Oln of the Forrest. My science officers think that if we can get our ship close enough, we can shut the subspace rift."

Tw'eak sat back, her antennae standing straight up. "Can you explain, Forrest?"

"We've detected a large verteron pulse generation chamber becoming active onboard the main Borg vessel out there. If we can get close enough to the firing chamber, we can utilize our main deflector to target the generator with a subnucleonic beam."

"Would that stop the pulse from generating?"

Captain Oln stuttered for a moment, before explaining in a patronizing tone. "It would shut down the generator. Completely."

Tw'eak looked to Octavia, who nodded several times rapidly, approving the idea. "Morl, signal the Majestic to cover the Forrest. Have the Ranger stay with us." She nodded to Chowalski. "Form up on the Forrest." Turning to Lio'wan she added, "get the shield drones to cover the Forrest instead."

"No need," Lio'wan replied. "They're at full strength."

"And their weapons have scarcely been fired," Morl added. "It's like they've been-"

"Like they've been doing what a science vessel should," Tw'eak interjected. "Staying out of the fight and looking for unorthodox ways to turn the battle." She smiled slightly. "Our chance, gentlemen." She looked to Morl first. "Signal the rest of the fleet to maintain general engagement, but to draw the attention of those probes." She then turned her head to Lio'wan. "At the first sign of trouble I want you to launch every last runabout you have. I don't care if they're crewed by singleton pilots - I want them to fly around and do whatever they can to make a mess."

Both officers confirmed. Octavia rolled slightly to the right in her chair, then straightened up and half-turned. "Captain..."

Tw'eak tilted slightly to try to meet Octavia's gaze. "What is it?"

"They see the Forrest. They... they don't have many weapons back there, not like in front, because of the verterons. All probes are being ordered to engage and destroy."

"We'll see to it that they never get a chance." She turned to Morl again. "Change of orders - get the fleet to target just the mothership. Octavia, is there a co-ordinate set you can give us which would get their attention?"

"The vessel appears to be purpose-built to create subspace rifts. However, its power distribution nodes in this section appear to be fluctuating." She tapped a tactical display of the craft on her screen. The co-ordinates for that area of the Borg vessel were then made available to Morl, who added them to his next fleet-wide transmission.

"See if we can't divide their focus," Tw'eak said to Morl.

"The fleet is acknowledging... and engaging on those co-ordinates."

"Good."

"I've got one flight of nineteen Yellowstones launching now," Lio'wan stated.

"Anything they can do. Tractor beams, phasers, anything that'll stop those probes from-"

The Bonaventure rocked as it was struck by a series of plasma beams.

"Nice to know they haven't forgotten us," Chowalski punned. "It's been a while."

"Just keep those hazard emitters-"

"On it, Captain."

"The Forrest on comms again, ma'am."

"Let's hear it, Morl."

The fairly androgynous voice of Captain Oln sounded once again through the Bonaventure's bridge. "Once we're in position we will require about ten seconds to ready and deploy the subnucleonic beam. Our targeting will need to be precise with the beam."

"If you miss..." Tw'eak inquired.

"It will take us a couple of minutes to try again."

"Octavia?"

"The pulse will be ready to deploy in two minutes, thirteen seconds."

"Did you get that, Captain?"

Captain Oln was silent for a moment. "Then we'll have to make it count. Forrest out."

The group of starships clustered defensively around USS Forrest as it maneuvered into position, coming to a full stop about twenty kilometres down the centre-line of the immense Borg vessel. That ship's weapons were nearly missing from this location, and a relatively minimal defensive effort was being offered from this vantage point towards the Starfleet formation. Down a long shaft at least five kilometres long, the glowing green of the verteron pulse generator could be clearly discerned. Using the shaft the same way a gun uses a barrel, the pulse would then pierce the veil separating subspace from the normal continuum. The Forrest, however, had other plans. It moved into position, synchronizing its centre-line with that of the Borg ship, and began to close the distance and improve its odds of hitting the generator with its subnucleonic beam with the first shot.

"Five probes on intercept with the Forrest," Morl noted.

"Flight has one - make that two probes in tractor. They're-" On the screen, the probes could clearly be seen to detonate. Lio'wan gasped slightly, then reported, "That's four runabouts down."

"Three probes remaining," Morl reminded Tw'eak. "Their shields are being augmented by their mothership."

"Majestic is engaging two of them - as is Ranger," Octavia observed.

"Target that third one, then."

As a few plasma bolts from the Borg vessel found it, causing its shields and hull to dance with the fire and energy, the deflector dish of the Forrest began to glow with a blue-and-amber light display as the subnucleonic beam readied to fire. Once again, the Intrepid-class science vessel came to a halt. As it did, from above and beside it, three starships each moved past on full thrusters to engage their selected targets. The Majestic's weapons slammed into one; the Ranger's runabouts trapped a second in their tractor beams before their mothership finished it off. Both fought back, firing first on the Forrest, then on their aggressors, as they exploded in a fireball of plasma and debris. The third barreled on through, seemingly rising in speed to full impulse.

"They're on a collision course!" Octavia screamed.

"Get us in front!" Tw'eak ordered. "Full shield, front!"

The Borg probe hammered through space, in a last-ditch effort to ram the Forrest with its hull. Its velocity made any evasive maneuver an impossibility. The Bonaventure rose, yawing and turning to fill the space ahead of the probe. Desperate to protect the Forrest with its own hull, the forward shield glowed as it was boosted and augmented with all available energy. The torpedoes that the Bonaventure fired had little effect, bursting against the probe's shields, one missed torpedo re-acquiring the main Borg vessel and blasting it instead. For its part, the Forrest had in the meantime aligned its deflector, and a subnucleonic beam emanated forth towards the verteron pulse generator. The beam hit its target, the science vessel had been successful, and the verterons dissipated as their generator began a lengthy cooldown process. The Borg, collectively, had failed.

But the probe had not. Relentless, it did not break off despite the uselessness of its kamikaze action. And as it struck the Bonaventure's forward shield, it splintered its hull against it, half-obliterated by the energy which struck it like a blade across its forward section. At the same time, having given all it could, if not more, the Bonaventure's shield collapsed, leaving a sizeable pair of chunks of Borg probe still bearing in at high speed towards the unprotected hull. Defensive armour and structural integrity fields screamed and twisted with the impact One part of the remains of the probe slashed down the dorsal section of the hull, leaving a long and jagged laceration along the length of the starboard hull section. The other, however, struck directly into the leading edge of the saucer on the port side, blasting through deck after deck before it, too, twisted and tore apart into two pieces. Nearly a third of its saucer section shorn away, the port warp nacelle support was also damaged by one piece of the probe as it smashed against it, bending and buckling the nacelle support to an angle no longer symmetrical, without tearing the nacelle from the ship. The stricken nacelle, now pointing almost at a thirty-degree angle away from the centre-line, no longer glowed brightly but fell dead along with the rest of the engine and power systems as emergency shutdown engaged.

In front of the wreckage of the Bonaventure, the Forrest and Ranger moved to continue to engage the main Borg vessel, while the Majestic moved to assist the Bonaventure, placing its massive Sovereign-class form between the stricken vessel and the Borg adversaries in a broadside angle. Immediately shuttles launched from the Majestic on search-and-rescue missions, some of them roping wayward lifepods with their tractor beams, while bigger runabouts moved into position to commence emergency transport of survivors from within the stricken hull.

On the bridge of the Bonaventure, Tw'eak had been thrown from her chair. A series of lacerations and bruises across her face stung as she touched them, trying to get herself to her feet but finding it impossible. At her side, suddenly, appeared a pair of large boots. It was Lio'wan, hoisting her into his arms and carrying her to the turbolift. She could see there, assembled ahead of her, Octavia, Chowalski and Stral, all in varying states of injury or concern. Lio'wan called out, "GO!" to someone at another turbolift before stepping in, his captain in his arms. Moments after, Tw'eak saw the bridge of the Bonaventure for what she assumed was the last time, and felt a hollow sense of heartbreak. So this, she thought to herself, is what it feels like to lose a command.

The turbolift opened a deck below, and Tw'eak found herself being carried into a lifepod. Lio'wan held her gently in his arms, and she found herself curling in like a child, nestling her head in his great chest, resting upon his right shoulder. She had difficulty moving her legs, and they had dangled against his left arm, her boots occasionally striking a bulkhead or doorway as they passed. Rather than strap her in separately, Lio'wan simply held her there, bracing himself against the force of the lifepod's separation from the Bonaventure, while around them, other officers from the bridge sat harnessed in place.

It was a desolate feeling, Tw'eak found, losing a command. The idea of it, the loss of command, extended beyond the Bonaventure's twisted hulk. She had no idea who was dead or alive. Even the idea of who was on the small deck of the lifepod with her, bound in place by their own seating, was unknown to her. Tw'eak could tell, using her antennae, by her distinctive bio-electric signal, that Octavia had made it out, but that was the only familiar sign. She wondered what other officers in the turbolift had joined them on the lifepod. She looked up at Lio'wan. "The others?" she asked quietly.

Lio'wan's face, itself cut in at least one place along his muzzle, shook his head, his eyes anxious. After a moment, he said, "I don't know." He had misinterpreted her question to be a general inquiry as to who else had survived, rather than to be about those on the lifepod.

Appreciative, Tw'eak reached up with her right arm and patted him on the uncut side of his face. "Thank you," she whispered.

The lifepod shuddered, and Lio'wan bounced, as something interfered with its flight. Tw'eak could hear the tapping of an interface by someone's hand, probably Octavia's, and the loud clang of the lifepod coming to rest. Once again, Lio'wan reacted by bracing his weight to better support his captain's, as the deck of the lifepod changed its angle slightly and came to rest. The exterior door opened, revealing the rather large interior of the main shuttlebay of the Majestic. They had been rescued, and as Tw'eak looked up, she could see the mooring beams of the Majestic reining in another cluster of lifepods just like hers, their triangular forms marked yellow and black on their underside. A few runabouts were also coming in to land, their mothership no longer capable of receiving them.

Lio'wan stood up and took her to the first medical team he could find. He did not wait for the others, and in fact cut right across the path of a lifepod which was being brought in to land, reckless in his need to get his captain to safety. "Medic!" he bellowed. "I need a medic here!"

One of the nurses, a human female, came over. "Can I help?"

"This is Captain Sh'abbas. Get her to sickbay. If Doc Ellington or Lieutenant Didaggo made it out, advise them of where she is." He lowered Tw'eak gently onto a grav-gurney, and turned back towards the nearest runabout. "I'm going to organize the flights from here," Lio'wan told his captain. "See if I can't get a search-and-rescue effort co-ordinated, just do something."

Tw'eak reached out once again and took his hand, a massive, muscular and furry hand nothing like her petite, comparatively delicate right hand. "Thank you," she repeated. He had saved her life. It was more than she knew how to repay. But, it occurred to her, she would have plenty of time to think about it. The bio-gurney started to move, and as she looked around she began, in her mind, to count her ranking officers. She spotted Morl as soon as the bed moved, as he was visible once the nurse no longer obscured her view. She also recognized the faces of Vesna, Stral and Chowalski as she scanned the crowd, and could hear Octavia's voice, asking to be taken to the bridge. That was most of her bridge crew accounted for- including, of course, Lio'wan. But no sign of T'uni, or of anyone from any other deck of the ship. She worried about Doc, and although she spotted a number of engineering officers, could not make out any of her senior engineering staff.

As she was being moved out of the shuttlebay, she was suddenly conscious of someone calling to her. She looked to her other side to see T'uni emerge from a knot of medical personnel about ten metres away, her hair disheveled, her uniform slightly burned. She stepped forward, straightened herself up, and walked silently beside her captain as she moved towards the corridor.

"You okay?" Tw'eak asked her, shouting in order to be heard over the noise of grav lifts, runabout engines and a thousand conversations at once.

"I believe so," T'uni responded after a moment. "I must accompany you to sickbay."

"Are you injured?"

"No, but the ranking medical officer will require an update on your condition."

"The ship?"

"Adrift." They passed through a doorway, out of the shuttlebay at last. The noise level returned to such that conversation was possible once again. "It would appear that the emergency shutdown sequence was successful. However, I am uncertain as to the tactical situation around us."

Behind the bio-gurney, a Bolian orderly spoke up. "Oh, that big Borg ship went back the way it came. It's gone. But your ship's wrecked. At least three pieces."

Tw'eak looked up at T'uni, who was offering a withering stare of her own at the orderly. "May I inquire as to how an orderly has such sophisticated understanding of our tactical disposition?"

The bio-gurney came to a halt as the Bolian recognized the lieutenant-commander's rank on T'uni's collar. "Uh... well... me and the guys, down in the ward, we've got a monitor we use to figure out how many casualties we're getting. Doc Pleshette said we might have to use all the shuttlebays as wards. Lotta wrecked ships, lotta people going to need treatment." T'uni persisted in her stare, and the Bolian protested, nervously, "Honest! That's all I know." The stare did not fade, and the Bolian added, "Okay, fine. Me and Ensign Stradwick, we were mucking with the controls a little. We wanted to watch what happened out there!"

"That would constitute a violation of Starfleet protocol-"

"T'uni..." Tw'eak said, raising a hand. "It's more than anyone else knows around here. Let it go."

"Very well... Captain." Defeated, T'uni arched an eyebrow and broke eye contact abruptly, continuing to walk down the corridor.

"That was your ship out there, eh?" the Bolian said after a minute.

"Yeah," Tw'eak replied. "Quite a ship."

"Bet she was some prettier before, am I right?"

Before T'uni could wheel around on her orderly yet again, Tw'eak let out a forced laugh, and said, "Yeah, you could say that." The turbolift at the end of the corridor admitted them, and they made their way to sickbay.


	15. Chapter 15

The wards and sickbay of the Majestic had proven to be no place for Tw'eak. It wasn't simply that they were crowded, but rather, that aside from a few minor cuts and bruises, nothing in her condition required around-the-clock care. They also made her feel like she should get up and help, something Doc Ellington wasn't about to allow to happen. As a result, and with the good doctor's assistance, Tw'eak had been moved to rather spacious guest quarters in the upper saucer, port side. T'uni had been billeted along with her in the same room, if only to assist wherever she was needed. A day had passed, in which time the Majestic had towed the Bonaventure part of the way to Vulcan at Warp 2. A little assistance with the maintenance of the warp field had been provided by Bonaventure's own surviving runabouts, many of which flew alongside the stricken vessel to keep it from falling out of warp.

At the moment, Tw'eak sat at a small desk in the larger of the two rooms in the guest quarters, next to T'uni, who recorded and edited the report she was dictating using a padd.

"In the event, I recognize that ordering the Bonaventure to intervene against the Borg probe in the manner which I did may be regarded as an unnecessary sacrifice of a Starfleet vessel. I stand prepared to face any accusations of misconduct or dereliction of duty which may arise as a result of my action. It is my belief, it should be noted, that having discharged our weapons, and given the imperative nature of the Forrest's involvement-"

"Perhaps you should re-phrase that. 'Given that we had discharged our weapons, in defense of the Forrest's action during the battle, it is my belief'." She looked at Tw'eak.

"Fine, change it. Anyway, it's my belief that our action was the only method of safeguarding the Forrest in order to ensure that the verteron pulse was not engaged. The consequences of a subspace tear, upon the military, economic and infrastructural development of the Sirius Sector Block made immediate action necessary, and few other meaningful alternatives were available."

"Are you implying that the destruction of our ship was necessary to prevent the verteron pulse?"

"You know, I've written lots of these reports myself." Tw'eak gave T'uni an unimpressed look. "Besides, we know now that the beam had already been fired and the threat neutralized by that point, but I didn't make my decision based upon what we know now. And that probe wasn't stopping anyway."

"I see." T'uni made a few taps on the padd.

The door chimed. Tw'eak fought the urge to sigh with relief. "Come in."

Through the door stepped a tall, lithe, attractive Andorian female, her hair carefully, meticulously teased into a style that made her stand out. Her facial similarity to Tw'eak was unmistakeable, as was her joy at seeing her big sister. "Dashichal!" Tw'eak called out to her as soon as she saw her. "I can't get up - I'm not being difficult."

"I know, I heard. What are you doing, running that ship of yours out in front of a Borg ship like that?" She glided more than walked over to her sister's side and gave her a hug. "Someone could get hurt, shi."

"It's good to see you," Tw'eak said as she half-embraced her sister in return. "When I heard the Majestic had entered the system I didn't know what to do."

Dashii released her sister and made a face. "Yeah, and it looks like it. I was on the bridge when you decided to use your ship as a barricade out there. I was so worried about you."

"Oh, wait." Tw'eak spotted T'uni moving towards the door. "T'uni, this is my sister Dashii. Dashii, this is my ship's counselor, and one of my oldest friends, T'uni of Vulcan."

"Hello," Dashii said.

"Greetings. I should take my leave, Captain."

"No need. You're welcome to stay."

"Yeah," Dashii joked, "someone better keep me from tying her up and carrying her home to zhavey before something else happens to her."

"Abducting a ranking officer would constitute-"

"She was kidding, T'uni."

"Ah. I see. I will return at 1900 to see if you require any further assistance." T'uni turned and made her way out of the room.

Dashii made another face, half-serious. "I will return to see if you have succeeded in trying to kill yourself again, Captain." She let out a laugh. "Vulcans. Honestly."

"Come on, now, her and I have known each other since before I was at the Academy."

"Yeah, and now she's one of them."

Tw'eak looked at her sister confused. "One of who?"

"Counselors. I was half-expecting her to ask me how I feel about you being here, start making it into some sibling rivalry thing."

"No, she wouldn't..." Tw'eak considered for a moment. "Actually, never mind." She smiled at her sister. "How are you?"

"A little tired. I am allowed to be tired, right?"

Tw'eak smiled. "No."

"Well, I am anyway. We didn't take too many hits, but plasma is hard to deal with. I don't really like shield distribution. It's a little boring."

"That means you're doing your job right."

"No, I mean, even at its most exciting, I feel like I'm capable of more." Dashii paced back and forth a little. "Maybe I might do better as a warp core engineer, or a fabrication specialist."

"You could always talk to some of my people, see how they like it."

"Oh, I have -talked to people on the Majestic, I mean. I kind of get a little bored with engineering, to be honest. It's just not keeping my interest."

Tw'eak thought for a moment, knowing her sister. "You never were much for math, so that rules out a lot of the engine room."

"That's not true!" Dashii protested, pointing at her sister.

"Theoretical math? Warp equations?"

The pointing finger fell, accepting reality. "Okay, maybe that is true."

"They always need people to balance EPS conduits and relays."

"That's boring, too."

"So everything is either too easy and boring, or too hard and impossible."

Dashii made a sulky face. "It's just not fair. Why can't they just make me a captain, too?"

"Oh, because that's easy."

"No, but it would be fun!"

Tw'eak shook her head, amused by the inexperience of her sister. "Tell you what. You call Admiral Quinn at Starfleet Command and ask him very nicely for a ship of your own. Sure, you're only a Lieutenant, but maybe they have some two-hundred-year-old rustbucket in need of piloting."

"It's just... maybe it's the ship."

"The Majestic isn't exciting enough for you? Being aboard a Sovereign class starship was plenty exciting for me as a lieutenant."

"But you were the tactical officer!" Dashii pouted. "Maybe I should've specced out as a tac officer."

"You? As a redshirt? No, I don't think so. For one, you're actually good with most machinery. That's what any commander would tell you - that you're too skilled in your profession of choice to make it worth switching over. And plenty of skilled engineers end up in command positions. They just... it takes time, that's all. Unless you can prove you have the aptitude for it, Starfleet won't put you in that role."

"But-"

"And, let's face it, you're pretty good with a phaser rifle, you could do really well as a mission specialist. You just need more time. Prove yourself in a couple of simulations, get your commanding officer's attention that way."

Dashii sashayed her hips a little. "I could get his attention in other ways."

Tw'eak looked down. "Is that skirt regulation?"

"Yes. And it's so long," Dashii whined as she sat down in a chair next to Tw'eak. "They used to make them so nice and short."

Tw'eak rolled her eyes. She rarely ever wore skirts or dresses if she could avoid it. She liked to keep her scars to herself. Not so Dashii, who Tw'eak joked to herself would probably be willing to marry a conservative Ferengi just because it meant she would be able to walk around naked all day. "Why don't we just say that it's in your best interest to impress your command staff for your capabilities beyond your ability to wear a skirt."

"Oh, I'd gladly go without it for-"

"Dashii!" Tw'eak raised a hand. "Not what I meant."

Dashii sighed. "How long have I been aboard this ship? And I still can't find myself a good set of arms to curl up into at night?"

"What about your bond group?"

"They get along just fine without me. When they're all ready to start a family, they'll call me. Until then a girl should be free to have fun, right? I'm like... I don't know, a betrothed Vulcan girl."

"You're less than thirteen years old? That sounds about right."

"No, I mean-" Dashii gave her sister a withering stare. "You're lucky you're hurt or I'd tackle you."

"You think I'm hurt? Nothing compared to what you'd be if you tried."

Dashii's giggle turned deadly serious. "What happened to you, anyway?"

"We were fighting the Hirogen, the day after I talked to you last. They hit the bridge - they may have been targeting it intentionally, I don't know. But we had a hull breach. One of my officers, a Bolian lieutenant at sensors, was sucked into space. I tried to get hold of her console and reach out to grab her before the force fields came into place. Didn't work."

"She died?"

"No, I got an emergency beam-out. Beam-in, now that I think about it. She started to experience decompression but she'll recover in time."

"Did you get sucked out, too?"

"No, but holding onto the console and reaching out to her dislocated my spine, most of my limb joints, except the replacement arm, and really hurt my ears. And my antennae, but that was more from being pulled by the suction than the force of it."

"Yeah, they're pretty durable," Dashii responded, looking up at her own set.

"Anyway, in the midst of that, we had just gotten our bridge module replaced at Utopia when we headed back out and wound up fighting the Borg."

"And that's when we got here. Wow. Your crew must hate you."

Tw'eak looked at her sister, surprised. "Sorry? Why?"

"Putting back out to space so soon after a major engagement like that. I would've at least given them time for a little shore leave. Most of them are pink-skins anyway, right?"

"You know we're not supposed to call them that, right?"

"You're right, not all of them actually have pink skin-"

Tw'eak's antennae spread wide in frustration. "Your casual speciesist attitudes would disqualify you for command immediately if you were an officer under my command."

"Oh, because I would talk this way to a commanding officer."

"Uh, zhi? Captain Tw'eak at your service."

"Sorry- to my commanding officer."

"All I'm saying is what I would think if you weren't my sister and I didn't know you better. Where did you pick up those ideas, anyway?"

Dashii practically gushed. "Qaz used to tell the most wonderful jokes. How do you make a Gorn jealous?"

"I don't know, eat a steak in front of them."

"You can't." Dashii practically bounced. "They're already green-eyed monsters!"

"Dashichal! That's enough of that."

"Sorry. I just... I miss him. He was such a sweetie. Always bringing me back some piece of tech or something to play with." She fawned a little in her chair. "I wish he was still alive. I would give anything to-"

"Don't." Tw'eak raised a hand.

"What?"

"Just don't finish that sentence."

"But we were in love!"

"You were already bonded!"

"Not my fault they do that early." Dashii made a soft click with her tongue. "I wish they let us pick our mates."

"Listen, any Andorian who thinks working as a pirate on a desert planet in the middle of nowhere is a good idea-"

"Desert planet?" Dashii tilted her head. "You mean like Vulcan?"

"Now, before you-"

There was a chime and Tw'eak watched as Dashii made a satisfied expression. "Come in," Tw'eak said a little too sharply.

In walked Lio'wan, who was carrying a box and accompanied by Aurora and Doc Ellington. "Captain!" Aurora declared excitedly. "It's good to see you!"

"Hello, Aurora. Let me introduce my sister Dashii to all of you. She serves aboard the Majestic."

Dashii said, "hello there," but only had eyes for Lio'wan.

"These are Flight Officer Lieutenant Commander Lio'wan, chief medical officer Doctor Shirley Ellington, and Lieutenant Commander Aurora duBois, one of my engineers."

"Just came by to see how my most frequent customer is doing," Doc began.

"I'm all right. Do we have a casualty count?"

"Yes, and I'll be keeping that to myself until we reach port."

"But I need that number for my report."

"I know. That's why I gave it to T'uni. She's already input the figures."

"Doc-"

Doc raised both hands. "If you want to try to get it out of her, go ahead. But good luck."

Aurora could barely wait her turn. "We- Lio'wan and I took a runabout back over to the Bonaventure. We managed to retrieve a few things for you."

"Here you go, ma'am." Lio'wan placed the box on the desk.

Tw'eak reached inside, retrieving the mounted kut'luch. "Thought I'd lost this." She looked up at Lio'wan. "Thank you."

Lio'wan gave a little bow and stepped back, as Doc said, "Now that's one casualty I can tell you about. One plasmonic sculpture."

"The one in my ready room, or the one you took?"

Aurora giggled. "Better make that two plasmonic sculptures." She shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's all right. Something to work on once I'm well enough again."

"On that note, and I'm telling you this in front of your next of kin-" Doc pointed almost in Tw'eak's face. "You don't have a ship to worry about, for the time being. Your crew is just fine and we'll be another day out from the shipyards over Vulcan. You're on medical leave until I tell you otherwise." Doc put her hands on her hips. "Or I'll be notifying your next of kin for other reasons."

Tw'eak looked sarcastically around, as if dismayed by the seriousness of the situation. "Oh dear."

"It's okay, Doc," Dashii said quickly. "I'll keep her out of trouble."

"See that you do."

Aurora contined chuckling and giggling.

Tw'eak looked up warmly at Lio'wan. "I want to thank you especially for carrying me out of the wreckage. For obvious reasons, I appreciate it."

"It was my job, ma'am."

"It was above and beyond that, and I think you know it. You saved my life, Lio'wan. I won't forget that."

If Caitians were capable of blushing, that would be the best description of Lio'wan's facial expression. His ears went back, his nose lowered slightly, and he smiled slightly. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Now, then." She turned to Aurora. "Please don't hesitate to tell anyone you see from the crew that I'm all right, and that they're welcome to visit."

"Really? Oh, that's great. Thank you!"

"Especially since I'll have nothing better to do," Tw'eak added with a sly look towards Doc.

Doc turned to Aurora, pointing. "If anyone tells her anything that gets her thinking she has to leave this room - and I don't care what it is - I'll hold you personally responsible."

Aurora made a face similar to Tw'eak's earlier look of astonished concern, although hers was nowhere near as sarcastic. "Oh -of course," she stammered, hastily adding, "ma'am!"

"Now let's leave the lady to her rest, please?" Doc shooed Aurora out of the room. For his part, Lio'wan stepped out quickly, without a further word, possibly still embarrassed from Tw'eak's sincerity. Aurora tried to say something from the edge of the doorway, but Doc raised her hand and she fled. "And if I have to post orderlies at the door to keep you resting, I will." She waved to Dashii. "A pleasure to have met you."

"Likewise, thanks!" Dashii called back as the door closed. She turned to Tw'eak. "Oh, those arms!" She raised both hands to her mouth in torrid anticipation. "He carried you out of there, did he?"

"Well, I couldn't exactly get myself out. If he hadn't done it, T'uni surely would've."

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Oh, he likes you, Twaiheak. So does that little one. She's like a toddler around you."

"It gets a little embarrassing on ground missions," Tw'eak laughed.

"They're just as good a crew as you've told me about."

"I know." Tw'eak retrieved the leather satchel containing her plasmonic sculpting tools from the box. "I'm glad they didn't forget these in the wreck." She looked up at her sister. "You know, you should try it sometime."

"Oh, no. You're the artistic one."

"I mean it. I've got nothing else to do - you heard the Doc. It might be fun for the two of us to get some time together like that."

"But I have duty."

"I'm sure the captain will understand. Besides, how often do we get to see each other?"

"Honestly?" Dashii's face fell. "The last time was on Tower Hill, back home."

"Sassil's funeral," Tw'eak observed. Dashii nodded. "And I had to beam out the same day to get back to the Bonaventure."

"You'd only just taken command," Dashii mused, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "It was so important to you."

Tw'eak reached out and put her hand on Dashii's hand. "So was Sassil. So were all the ones we've gone to Tower Hill to say goodbye to as a family." She looked down, sadly. "There have been too many."

"Well, there could've been you, too, how many times now?" Dashii took Tw'eak's hand, the bio-synthetic replacement hand, in hers. "Here's one. That hull breach was two. Ramming the Borg ship was three."

Tw'eak pulled her hand back. "I wasn't ramming it, they rammed me."

"Well, come on. You think I like going up Tower Hill?"

"That's not fair!" Tw'eak shook her head. "Not ten minutes ago you were going on about how bored you are."

"Yeah, and you know why I don't want to be bored anymore, Twaiheak? Because it gives me time to think." She stood up. "Being alone at night and being alone at my station, all I do is think about Sassil and our brothers and Qaz and zhavey and everyone else we've lost. So yeah, maybe I do need something more... stimulating than you do. You've got lots to worry about."

"I've got lots of people to worry about- my command, my responsibility!" Tw'eak clutched her hand to her chest. "But in the middle of that fight against the Borg, I was more worried about you, here, on this ship, than I was about my own!"

"So that's why you tried to get yourself killed, then."

"Dashichal, listen." Tw'eak held her hand out to her sister, ushering her back to a seated position. "Do you understand what that giant Borg ship was doing?"

"Something about verteron particles. Subspace."

"They were trying to create a transwarp gate through subspace. They would've destroyed all subspace in the heart of our quadrant of the galaxy at best, or flooded the region with Borg ships at worst. The Forrest was our only way to stop them. I had to defend them. It was all I could do to stop them. We fired on them - your ship fired on them... we had no other choice."

Dashii looked down into her lap, silent.

"But I hear what you're saying. I don't want to lose you, either. You're my zhi, you're the only zhi I get, the only one I have left. I miss Sassil, too. I miss everyone. We're fortunate to have each other, to have time with each other, here, now. All we can do is make the best of what we've got."

After a few moments in silent communion, Dashii reached out and opened the seal on the leather satchel. "So what are these tools all about?" she asked.

"Let's take a look," Tw'eak said, holding out her hand. "I'll need you to do most of the moving around and two-handed stuff."

Dashii looked up at her elder zhi and smiled, a small tear working its way out of her twinkling eye. "Sure," she replied.


	16. Chapter 16

Once the Majestic had reached Vulcan, the crew of the Bonaventure, whether injured or not, were convened in the main shuttlebay of the Majestic. Sitting roughly in ordered columns by department, or as part of the ward set up along the starboard side of the shuttlebay, Tw'eak's crew watched as she made her way along a raised platform in front of them, towards a microphone. It was a difficult pathway for her to navigate, still in recovery as she was, but it was one she had resolved to walk by herself.

"Good evening," she began. "I have just received the following communique from Admiral Quinn, and have convened this gathering since I imagined you'd want to hear it yourselves." She tapped on a padd placed upon the makeshift dais, and began to read aloud.

"To: Sh'abbas, Captain, USS Bonaventure commanding. From: Admiral Quinn, Starfleet Command, re: outcome of action of stardate 99125.1. Starfleet Command has reviewed the provided reports and data surrounding the combat actions of Captain Sh'abbas and her crew, and the resultant damage to USS Bonaventure which necessitated its evacuation. It is the finding of Starfleet Command that Captain Sh'abbas and her crew are to be commended for their quick thinking in defense of mission-critical elements present in the theatre of combat, despite their actions resulting in the loss of their vessel. No further court-martial or other proceeding is deemed to be necessary at present, although Command reserves the right to re-consider this stance should new evidence become available in the future.

"Once arrived in Vulcan shipyard, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers will ascertain a cost/benefit analysis of repairs to USS Bonaventure, with regards to refit of spaceframe and return to space worthiness versus decommissioning and crew re-assignment. At present, all crew members formerly stationed upon USS Bonaventure are to stand down for a period of leave from duty or, if required, for medical recovery. Transport will be made available should they wish to travel in order to engage in further off-duty activities during this time.

"All USS Bonaventure personnel will return to active duty status as of stardate 99164, unless medical leave is determined to need further extension. Personnel are advised they will be called to assembly, and be expected to be present, on Earth Spacedock on stardate 99164.1 for further orders and, if necessary, re-assignment. Senior officers of USS Bonaventure are advised that they may be contacted should the situation require their intervention.

"As a final point, Starfleet Command has seen fit to bestow upon the USS Bonaventure the Unit Citation of the President of the Federation, and upon its commanding officer, Captain Twaiheak Sh'lo Shabbas, the Christopher Pike Medal for Valour." Tw'eak's voice trailed off as she read the name of the medal with which she would be presented. Cheers echoed throughout the crowd. Tw'eak could hardly believe it. "The presentation of the citation and further commendations will take place during the return-to-duty assembly on stardate 99164. Signed, Quinn, Admiral, Starfleet Command."

Tw'eak looked up from her podium and across the crowd. She spotted Aurora looking at her anxiously, Lio'wan watching her every move with a lofty feline grin, and nearer the front, Doc Ellington, T'uni and Octavia all looking equally proud. Tw'eak fought to keep her voice from cracking as she continued her address. "We obviously won't know for sure until after the Corps of Engineers have completed their survey and analysis whether or not the Bonaventure will be fit to return to service. Until that time, I have the permission of Starfleet Command to relieve the assembled company of officers and personnel of duty until stardate 99164.1, when I will surely see you all again on Earth." She smiled as she received a few cheers from the crowd, and her voice rose, both in volume and intensity, as she spoke. "Go home, visit your relatives, let them know what we've been up to, what we've been fighting for. Let them know the Federation depends on them, that you depend on them and their support, every day. Let them know that you're part of the best crew in Starfleet, and that we're not going to stop fighting until the fight is won."

Tw'eak allowed for a brief murmur of approval from the crowd before continuing, but what followed was a torrent of cheering, and a lengthy round of applause. As they were able, each of the columns of crew members rose, if they were able, and gave a standing ovation for their commanding officer. Tw'eak raised her right arm and waved softly, lowering it quickly to catch herself on the podium. There was nothing further to say. Shuttle bay crew serving onboard the Majestic stopped their work and watched the assembled company. In the observation gallery above the Bonaventure's assembly, Dashii watched her sister on the podium below, grinning fiercely with pride. In the crowd, Tw'eak saw every eye directed to her, and she enumerated for herself all the crew members she knew. She also glanced over several times to the injured crew, many of them applauding or raising a fist or thumb's-up in general appreciation. After a few minutes, the applause began to fade. "You're all dismissed, thank you," she added quickly.

The general melee of the crowd began to dissipate. Some stepped forward to meet Tw'eak as she took a step down, chief among them T'uni, who offered a supporting arm. Tw'eak shook hands, saluted, embraced a few (painfully) and did a lot of smiling. She was shown appreciation, congratulation, and adulation by the officers she encountered. There was a sort of mutual good feeling that pervaded the room, and yet in the midst of it, Tw'eak felt alone.

* * *

Some hours later, after an impromptu send-off in one of several lounges aboard the Majestic, and one or two brief discussions with ship's security about her people's antics, Tw'eak found herself settled in a chair at the far end of a lounge, next to Dashii, who had joined them after her watch ended, and Octavia, who seemed to have developed a slight hiccup.

"I find the effects of Andorian ale to be quite pleasantly negative to my cognitive abilities," Octavia said after a long moment in silence.

"I can't believe you were able to get the real stuff," Tw'eak added, looking at Dashii.

"Let's just say that I have a few friends in security who let me know when the contraband search is on," Dashii said with a wry smile.

"You produce this yourself?" Octavia held up her glass, mostly empty.

"Oh, no, that wouldn't just be illegal, that'd be stupid." Dashii looked at her big sister. "Hey, wouldn't that be something. I could brew Andorian ale instead of balance shields!"

"Didn't you just say it'd be illegal?"

"I'd resign my commission first, of course."

Octavia hiccuped. "I do not think that wise," she half-whispered before looking around in alarm. "Captain, I- I believe I require medical attention."

"Why, what is it?"

"My diaphragm is no longer functioning adequately, and I am experiencing severe abdominal discomfort." She put her hands on the armrests of her chair and straightened her back. As she did, a gurgling noise issued forth from her mouth.

Dashii laughed. "When was the last time you burped? Clearly it's been a while."

Octavia held a hand over her mouth, and then quickly lowered it, saying, "Excuse me," in an ashamed tone.

"It's all right," Tw'eak said, smiling.

"You don't drink often, do you?" Dashii inquired of Octavia.

"No. Or eat, for that matter. It is not a requirement of my bodily function."

"Maybe it should be. It would certainly make these occasions more fun."

"Not with the Andorian ale," Tw'eak quickly added. "Not with any real alcohol."

"I don't know," Dashii quipped. "I've heard lots of stories of engineers whose ships performed better if they were drunk."

"I haven't," Tw'eak said flatly.

"Well, that's besides the point. I'm the only officer who's on duty any time soon, and I can hold my liquor very well, thank you. Can't say the same for you, Twaiheak."

"Actually, she's right," Tw'eak acknowledged for Octavia.

"What do you say we go and find ourselves some fun, hmm?" Dashii bit her lip, excitedly.

"What kind of 'fun' do you propose?" Octavia asked, inclining her head slightly.

"You know, the fun kind." Dashii raised her eyebrows a couple of times rapidly in succession.

"She doesn't know what you're talking about," Tw'eak advised her sister, "but I do. And I don't think that's a good idea."

"I knew what you thought, but I thought I could introduce her around to a few of my people... she could introduce me to a few of your people... you know..."

"Dashichal, you're drunk. Why don't you head back to your quarters and sleep off the ale before you go back on duty?"

"Well, okay," she said, standing up. "But I might have to make a few stops on my way there," she added, swinging her hips a bit more than was considered regulation while making her way out the door.

Tw'eak shook her head, chuckling at her sister. She looked over at Octavia, to see her quietly looking downwards. "If you wanted to go with her, you're welcome to. She could use a chaperone."

"May I tell you something, Captain?" Octavia said, her tone still half-whispered.

"Of course." She sat up a bit. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by-"

"It's not you, Captain, not at all. I appreciate all you've done for me, in the years you've known me."

"Well, thank you." Octavia remained silently seated, and Tw'eak thought of a question that had bothered her. "Are your quarters sufficient?"

"Yes, thank you. Lio'wan and Aurora saw to it that many of the arboretum's flowers were rescued." She smiled slightly. "I must admit that I could never be comfortable in standard quarters aboard ship. The alcove and the roses take up a considerable amount of space." She looked down again. "I was quite touched that they were willing to go to that much effort for me." She shook her head slightly, the greenish tinge in her black hair that much more evident as she did. "I suppose that's part of what it is. In my life before, according to my biographical records, I was unmarried, and had few relations. Those whom I had in my life before no longer survive."

"Do you know how long you were a Borg drone for, exactly?"

"According to records, eleven years, seven months, and nineteen days."

"You were the only liberated Borg drone aboard ship, as well."

"Indeed. Our... services, as you saw during the battle, are much in demand, shall we say."

"Octavia, all your services, all of your talents and abilities, are of immense worth to me. I'm very glad we're friends."

"As am I. However, I... well, I don't know how to say this any other way. There is a certain quantity in humanoid interactions which I am incapable of experiencing - or rather, I believe I am incapable of experiencing."

"I know. At least, I've observed that."

"No, I mean- specifically, I am referring to the concept of desire."

"Oh." Tw'eak leaned back in her chair slightly. "You mean you've never loved."

"Or been loved. Given the advanced state of my alteration by the Borg, I am unsurprised to note that I have never been all that... 'easy on the eyes', I believe the saying goes."

"I'm sorry I'm not much help as a judge of that," Tw'eak joked. "You're not really my type."

Octavia seemed to be more animated, out of frustration, than was typical for her. Her hands fluttered slightly, her remaining eye winked more often, her head tilted left to right, as she spoke. "I have been introduced to many individuals in my time since my liberation from the Collective. More often than not, they see me as a Borg. If not, they see me as a Starfleet officer. My identity, from the perspective of others, is not who I truly am."

"Yes, I understand."

"I do not believe that I really have a comprehensive understanding of who I am at the best of times, to be fair. But I find myself... yearning? Is that the word?"

"Yeah, it works."

"I wish to be understood, to be cared about, but I do not know where to start. Part of me wishes I could simply stop being concerned about this, but it is a situation I am not prepared to deal with efficiently."

Tw'eak smiled. "Nobody deals with this sort of thing efficiently. I surely don't. I don't have anyone in my life, either. I've wanted to, but it's never worked out. And as captain I can't exactly put myself out there, like Dashii does, and look for a partner."

"Do you suppose she may be able to assist me?"

Tw'eak's eyes opened wide. "I doubt it. For one thing, she may not be the best guide to the subject. And for another, she can tell you what works for her - and that may be the opposite of what you want."

"But I do not know the opposite of what I want, since I have no idea what that is."

"Precisely. The only good advice I have ever received on this subject is to know who you are, and what you want. Once you know those things, don't settle for anything less."

"I see. May I ask the source of that advice?"

"My zhavey, my birth mother."

"Thank you for sharing that with me."

Tw'eak arched her back, stretching. "For tonight, though, it's pretty late. I need to get back to my quarters, get some sleep." She looked around. "Wonder where T'uni is."

"I believe she withdrew to her quarters once the 'fun' started."

"Yeah, that sounds like her." Tw'eak moved to stand, and Octavia rose, unsteadily, to assist her. "Well, won't we make quite a pair."

"I have not experienced a loss of balance before, to my recollection." Octavia gave a brief hint of a smile. "Is it strange that I find it pleasurable?"

"Not at all," Tw'eak replied. "What are your plans for your leave time?"

"I do not know. I was considering contacting Starfleet Academy to see if they would like any assistance with curriculum or Borg defense training programs. I also seem to recall there being many flowerbeds and gardens on the Academy grounds. They may appreciate the flowers from the arboretum."

"And your bees, too."

"Of course. The flowers can do very well without them, however. But the Academy may find the entire set-up to be useful."

"I'll tell you what. Once you've taken care of your flowers, and found yourself a temporary accommodation... look me up on Andoria via subspace. We'll find a spot, someplace in the galaxy, where nobody knows who we are, and we'll do this again."

"This? You mean 'fun'?"

"Yeah," Tw'eak said as she leaned on her friend's arm. "It'll be fun all right. Come on." They walked out together, Octavia carefully supporting her captain on her way back to her quarters before she returned to hers to regenerate.

The comms notification sounded much too early for Tw'eak's liking. She rolled over in her bed, her head pounding out a fierce rhythm, and looked around in the dark. "Computer, lights. Time?"

"The time is currently oh-seven-thirty-three."

"Seriously? Where's my commbadge."

"Unable to reply."

"Never mind." Tw'eak found the button on a small wall-mounted console. "Sh'abbas. Go ahead."

"Captain?" It was Octavia. "I have been experimenting with my sexuality. Could you please join me in Holodeck Three when you have a moment?"

Tw'eak's antennae stood on end. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I have spent some time recently experimenting-"

"No, I heard you, I just... I just woke up, this is a lot to take in."

"Oh. Of course."

"Haven't you been to bed- I mean, regenerate?"

"I have done so, and had the opportunity. As your sister would put it, why not?"

Octavia quoting Dashii made Tw'eak shudder. "She didn't put you up to this? She didn't play a part in this-"

"I assure you, Captain, I have been experimenting entirely on my own."

Tw'eak got herself into a standing position with the usual difficulty. "Let me... oh." She had fallen asleep in her uniform. She remembered now that it had been easier to do that than to change clothes. "I'll be there in five minutes. Holodeck three, you said?"

"Yes. Holodeck Three."

"Okay. I'll see you shortly." She looked down at her uniform and thought better of simply going. She put her boots on and changed her tunic, carefully moving the jacket over her left arm in order to get it off. A quick look at herself in the mirror and she made her way to the turbolift. She considered calling T'uni. Perhaps this was something her expertise would be useful in handling. After a few more steps down the hall, she thought better of it. Octavia had opened up to her over the course of the preceding evening. This was hardly a choice she had made casually or indiscriminately. To bring in a third party, even a qualified one, at this early point in time would mean it would be the end of Tw'eak's involvement. But what could this 'experimentation' mean?

The turbolift door opened, and Tw'eak stepped inside slowly. A young lieutenant commander in a sciences uniform followed her into the turbolift, a human with short, light brown hair, and an almost triangular build - broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted. He nodded at her as he entered and said, "Deck ten."

Tw'eak looked at him for a moment, then to the ceiling of the turbolift. "Holodeck three." After a quick beep in acknowledgement, the turbolift began to move.

The lieutenant looked over his shoulder at Tw'eak, who was leaning against the exterior with her right arm. "You're Captain Sh'abbas, right?"

"I am," Tw'eak replied. "Nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Simon Larkin, ma'am. A pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand to shake Tw'eak's, and she pushed herself off the side of the turbolift to meet his grasp.

"Have you been aboard long?"

"No, just since they picked us up. Same as you, I'd imagine." He noticed that Tw'eak looked confused, so he explained. "I was chief of astrometrics and gravimetrics onboard the Anderlecht."

"I'm sorry," Tw'eak said automatically.

"We did our best. We lost a lot of good people over there. But thanks to you, it wasn't the first of many losses yet to come."

"What makes you say that?"

Larkin grinned at her, surprised. "People all over the ship are talking about how you stopped that Borg ship, to keep them from ramming the science ship." He looked slightly confused. "Is that what happened? I was still in sickbay here when that happened."

"You've been well-informed. The Borg probe was on a collision course, we just... changed their course, you might say."

"That's... wow. That's heroic." Larkin was all smiles. "Hey, listen, I've got an appointment with Doc Pleshette." He gestured towards his midsection. "I got hurt pretty bad by some falling debris, just a check-up. Would you mind if maybe later, if you aren't busy, maybe I could buy you a drink?"

Tw'eak was both impressed by Larkin's audacity and revulsed by the idea of anything more to drink. "You won't be long in the sickbay if it's just a check-up. How about we meet for lunch?"

"I'd love to. You know any place onboard that might be good for that?"

"No, but I've served on Sovereign-class ships before. There's usually a forward lounge on deck eight. Let's meet there."

"Sure," Larkin said, his smile broadening slightly. The turbolift came to a conveniently-timed halt. Both looked out into the corridor - the doors to the holodeck were just down the hall and around the corner. Larkin looked to Tw'eak and nodded. "Your stop."

"Yeah." She started to move forward, slowly, out of the turbolift.

Larkin's face was suddenly concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm... I recently dislocated a couple joints, had a little surgery. Nothing time can't fix, don't worry about it." Tw'eak hobbled out the door while trying to make an impression of normal operations about her walk. "Twelve-hundred work for you?"

"Absolutely, ma'am."

Tw'eak raised a hand. "Please, call me Tw'eak." She smiled softly, and added, "if you're okay with that."

"Sure. And, um, Simon. I'm glad we met."

"See you later." Tw'eak stepped through the door, patiently trying to control her pace. Her anxiety flowed freely now that she wasn't repressing her facial expressions and antennae any longer, and after the turbolift doors closed, carrying Larkin on his way to deck ten, she nearly collapsed with anxiety. Being this close to a... was it a date? She hadn't thought to ask. Now she was worried. Perhaps she had been too forward, setting aside rank and making things informal? What did it all mean? Her eyes opened wide and her antennae looked frantic.

Another officer, this one a Rigelian ensign in an engineering uniform, came up to her. "Is everything all right, ma'am?" she inquired anxiously.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just recovering from surgery - it sneaks up on me sometimes. Sorry." She straightened up and kept moving, a little more briskly, or at least, as briskly as she could manage, to the door of Holodeck Three.

Inside, Tw'eak passed through an archway into a room with a metallic floor and high ceiling, dimly lit. The floor reflected the light slightly, shimmering in places. Tw'eak was dismayed at the lack of places to sit. "Octavia?" she called out, resting her arm against the archway.

"Hello, Captain," Octavia said, unseen.

"Where are you?"

"I am... up here."

Tw'eak looked up to see Octavia on a high platform, many metres off the ground. The holodeck projection made it appear that she was at a height greater than that of the entire ship. "What are you doing?" Tw'eak asked.

"Another of my experiments," Octavia replied. Before Tw'eak could say another word, she somersaulted, as though diving into a pool, and began to plummet to the surface. Tw'eak looked - there was no anti-grav unit, no pool of water, no visible landing platform or even a trampoline. She looked back up and saw that Octavia had deployed a pair of fairly small fins from a knapsack, probably one of her own devising. She began to drift to the surface, rather than drop directly, taking momentary turns this way and that as she came down. Before long the knapsack was visible clearly to Tw'eak as Octavia touched down on the cold steel floor without a sound. "I apologize if I frightened you." She walked towards Tw'eak and removed her knapsack. "This is a personal anti-grav unit. I had been developing the idea of it during my time aboard the Bonaventure, and the events of the past few days have given me time to consider it more closely."

Tw'eak gave the knapsack an examination, turning it over in her hands and looking at the various components. "This is the perfect place to test it, assuming the safety protocols are active. Although you'll probably want to try variable wind conditions and so forth."

"Of course." Octavia looked upwards and announced, "Computer, end program."

The sheer drop was replaced by the walls of a holodeck.

"So when you called me earlier..." Tw'eak opened.

"Yes. I was experimenting with my sexuality. Would you like to see my results?"

Tw'eak hesitated. "That depends on your results... and methods."

"Oh." Octavia looked at her for a beat before she realized why Tw'eak was not as enthusiastic as she had expected. "I think you misunderstand my experiment. I didn't engage in any sexual activity as part of it."

"Oh." Tw'eak flushed, relieved. "Right."

"Computer, load program Octavia Sexuality Alpha."

Around the two female officers appeared a grid of pedestals about ten centimetres tall, each of them supporting a male of various species clad in generic grey clothing. "This was my experiment. I was attempting to ascertain whether I found any of them attractive."

"Are these people we know, or are they just simulations?"

"I'm not permitted to simulate the appearance of fellow officers. These individuals are randomly generated."

"I see." Tw'eak looked around, noting, "these are almost all human."

"Of course. I modified the program slightly in order to narrow down the choices available. I wanted to be... picky, as the saying goes."

"Yeah, don't we all?" Tw'eak watched Octavia's face, which did not react. "But anyway. What have you found out?"

"I removed from consideration races like the Vulcans, Andorians, Caitians and Tellarites, since they make permanent partnerships or bond groups."

Tw'eak fought the urge to mention Dashii's promiscuous attitude despite her being bonded. "Right."

"I also excluded races which it seemed less likely to find a partner among, including the Hirogen, Orions, Nausicaans and Remans, or among those who do not share my particular functions of life, such as Benzites, Saurians, Vorta and Gorn."

Tw'eak took a look around. "No Romulans, either?"

"I have looked up Romulan courtship practices. To be honest, I feel that they, like the Ferengi, have too many variables in the possible outcomes of a partnership to make such a pursuit worthwhile."

"Well, the Ferengi I can understand. You'd hate to be kept naked at home as much as I would. But the Romulans, I don't get."

"The destruction of their homeworld has made many Romulans... pragmatic about their romantic involvement with others. I would not enjoy such a relationship."

Tw'eak smiled. "Point taken."

"This still left more than three thousand known species available for romantic opportunities, but I also excluded those for whom courtship opportunities are caste-based, xenophobic, exclusionary or overly elaborate in other ways."

"That left you with humans?"

"Humans, Rigelians, Bolians, Pakleds, Cardassians-"

"And you've excluded most of these already?"

Octavia nodded. "This left me with the ability to choose based upon aesthetic principles. Hair colour, skin colour, height, musculature, facial features, and other physical properties."

Tw'eak took a glance around. "Some of them are pretty cute, but what's the point?"

Octavia looked uncertain. "I don't understand."

"None of them are attached to hearts, minds, personalities... souls. They're just mannequins."

"My intention was to see if I developed a physical attraction."

"Believe me, that's nice to have when it's there, but it's not necessary. All the other factors in what makes a person who they are count for a lot more."

"But I felt..." Octavia looked down, then slightly to the left, as if searching for the words to say. "I felt that if I narrowed my options in terms of what I found attractive, it may make it more likely that they find me attractive."

Tw'eak felt awful. She felt an urge to give Octavia a hug, to explain to her that this wasn't how attraction worked, to give her an opportunity to see that looks were just the beginning, but it was too early in the morning. "Have you had any luck?"

"No. I was hoping to inquire what your preferences would be, in order to establish a baseline of understanding."

"I don't know if that would be fair."

"I apologize."

"No, I mean, for you to give me that much influence over your future partners, that you would base your choices on my idea of who's cute."

"You said yourself that 'some of them are pretty cute'. I would like to know your reasons why, and evaluate whether or not I would agree."

Tw'eak took a deep breath. "I think I have a better idea."


	17. Chapter 17

The forward lounge of USS Majestic was immense. Several officers were having their lunches at the tables which were present, and a large floor display dominated the room, a towering gilded stylized raptor, its wings aloft in a pose neither threatening nor specific to flight.

"Can you tell me what that says?" Tw'eak asked Octavia as they arrived together.

Octavia duly moved to the base of the raptor, read the plaque located there, and returned to Tw'eak's side. "It was donated to the captain and crew of this vessel for their service in supporting the Romulan Republic."

"Nice. Okay, so here's what we'll do. You can sit relatively near us, and observe - discreetly. Nothing too obvious."

"Of course." Octavia brushed her hair aside for a moment. "I will leave my tricorder at... home?"

Tw'eak looked at Octavia, bewildered.

"I thought attempting to make a joke might be appropriate. I have also been studying dialogue. It appears I've been doing it wrong."

"What makes you say that?"

"That was another joke." It was Octavia's turn to look confused. "Perhaps my tone of voice isn't quite right. Or my facial expression."

"We can come back to that later - I'm a little anxious right now so I don't really know if this is the time."

"Of course. I can return to the subject later."

"No, I mean, I'm anxious about this. He seemed nice, I don't want to ruin it by making it obvious that I brought you along."

"As a chaperone, I believe."

Tw'eak gave Octavia an even more bewildered look. "You are not here as a chaperone. This is about you experimenting with- I mean, learning about courtship rituals. It's a little more pressure on me, and I don't want to mess it up."

"It seems curious that you would choose to bring someone else along for a first date."

"Well, you never know. Just because he wears the same uniform as us doesn't mean he's like us."

"I understand."

Tw'eak adjusted her tunic. "Besides which, if it goes well, and it never does, but if it goes well, you'll get a chance to be there at the start of something special."

"Your attitude in this matter is so different from that you display on the bridge."

"Now you're starting to sound like T'uni."

"If you had taken the attitude in battle that we were already as good as assimilated, I think the outcome would have varied significantly."

Tw'eak was starting to get a facial cramp from all the unexpected moments Octavia was creating. "I take it back," she said after shaking her head. "T'uni never just goes charging in like that."

"I apologize, Captain. One of the points of interpersonal dialogue I am attempting to work on doing better. What is known as, 'telling it straight'."

Tw'eak caught herself from having a sharper reaction, and instead replied, "Something else we can come back to later."

"Very well. I will order a drink and sit with a padd, over there. I should be able to look relatively busy, and therefore unapproachable."

"Okay, you do that."

"Would you like anything, Captain?"

"No- not right now, thank you." Tw'eak gestured for Octavia to move to her place as she slowly sat down at a table near the door. "We'll probably go up and order together. If I need you I'll call you over."

"Of course. Good luck." Octavia turned away, then looked back at her captain. "Is it appropriate to wish you luck?"

"Yes. And thank you." Tw'eak tried to look sincere, but her stomach was in knots. It wasn't like she had any expectations or desires associated with this lunch date but it was just really nice to look forward to sharing a meal with someone new for a change. She sat, by herself, adjusting her napkin's angle at the table, maneuvering a spoon to a slightly different position, waiting.

After a few minutes she grew impatient and crossed her legs, then practiced breathing slowly, then thought about the table of organization for the Bonaventure once -that was to say, if she resumed active service. It was only then that it occurred to her that it might not be the best sign, if she was there and already seated when he arrived. Or was that a good thing? She would just wave him over. Or perhaps he would prefer a different seat. What then? And what about Octavia - would she re-position if they did? And would that make him nervous? What would they talk about? Should she have worn her hair up? Or taken a sonic shower?

As she looked around, anxiously, her antennae nearly touching, she felt a tap on her shoulder and nearly leapt at it. "Hey, sorry!" It was Larkin.

"You should know better than to surprise a tactical officer," Tw'eak joked.

"Yeah, sorry. I came in the other door. Almost didn't see you all the way over here?"

"There's another door?" Tw'eak cursed herself for not checking the room more clearly. The lounge curved around the edge of the saucer, and down at the far end was a second door, invisible to her sight since it was accessed from a separate corridor. "Right."

Larkin sat opposite Tw'eak, stiff and upright in his chair. "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah, likewise," Tw'eak replied with genuine relief. "It's been a while since I've done this."

"Not me. I try to do this every day. Don't always get the chance, but feel better when I do."

Tw'eak tried to hide her suspicious reaction. "What do you mean?"

"Lunch," Larkin replied. "I used to get first shift on the Anderlecht, so this is right around the time I always have lunch." He leaned over in the chair, stretching. "Doc says I'm going to be fine - and I can eat whatever I want again."

"Ah, of course." Tw'eak realized she had said too much and sought to shift focus. "Good to hear. When you're in command there's rarely ever time to sit down and enjoy a meal. Most days I have to remember to stop and eat."

"I can imagine. We've been pretty quiet -I mean, we were pretty quiet in stellar cartography for the past few months, if you don't count the past few days. Not much need for us to map any clusters or sectors when we're part of a task force, escorting carriers or dreadnoughts here and there."

"Yeah. I think your ship was part of our escort package on stardate 98832, when we engaged a Klingon strike force bound for Starbase 24."

Larkin looked slightly embarrassed and placed his hands in his lap. "I don't really remember."

"Oh, I see."

"I honestly don't get out of stellar cartography very often. It's a nice, quiet little department to be in."

Tw'eak remembered a conversation she'd had not long ago. "Do you ever long for the days when we were explorers instead of soldiers?"

"Oh, I still see myself very much as an explorer. I wouldn't be much good as a soldier. I mean, one collapsing bulkhead and I need someone to carry me out. I'm not much good to Starfleet outside of what I do in my department. I just wish the war was over so we could go back to exploring the stars again. I wouldn't miss it at all." He shook his head. "We've lost so many good people."

"Yeah." Tw'eak forced her antennae to remain in place, but she was fast becoming disappointed. "So why did you ask to buy me a drink?" she inquired with a smile, leaning slightly forward.

"Well, you're a hero. That's what you do, right?" Larkin laughed, a little snickering laugh that Tw'eak tried not to be irritated to hear. "I wasn't really expecting you to turn that into lunch. We don't get to see many officers down my end of the ship, and I was glad to meet you. I told Jeanice and Doryph that I met you, and they were so jealous."

"Who are Jeanice and Doryph?"

"Oh, my assistant officers in stellar cartography." Larkin smiled. "We all made it out, thankfully. Didn't lose anyone- almost me. Well, not really." He looked away momentarily. "They're like a family to me. We all work really well together." A shrug. "Not sure what will happen now that the Anderlecht is gone."

"Do you have a family?" Tw'eak asked, then re-phrased. "I mean, off-ship. Relatives, that sort of thing."

"Not really. My parents served together on the Endeavour, years and years ago, but they split up when I was very young. I checked dad's service record, he went down with the Kelso. And mother retired from active service about twelve years ago, just in time to miss most of the war. She keeps threatening to re-enlist, but I told her that they have plenty of perfectly well-trained flight deck officers coming out of the Academy every day."

Tw'eak found herself thinking about Lio'wan, her flight deck officer, and allowed the conversation to drift into silence.

"I have a bit of a hobby," Larkin offered, "learning languages."

"Really."

"Yeah. We sort of quiz each other, in stellar cartography. Jeanice is almost fluent in Tellarite, and I'm pretty good at spoken Vulcan." He shrugged again. "Not so good at Andorian. Written Andorian isn't that hard, for the most part, but spoken Andorian is very difficult. Doryph always has to correct my mannerisms."

"It's hard to speak without a pair of these," Tw'eak said, pointing up at her antennae.

"See, he says the same thing! But it's more an inflection thing, I think, tone and pronunciation." He shook his head slightly. "I don't really care for it - no offense, of course."

Tw'eak wanted to sigh. She had been so wrong. This was Dashii's influence, she told herself, making her think that a simple gesture of appreciation was a sign of some sort of interest. She had wanted to believe something completely different than what had been obvious. Larkin was nothing like what she had expected, and her profound disappointment was carefully concealed under a mask of apparent interest. All she had to do was keep her eyes level, her head slightly turned to one side, and her antennae forward.

"I mean," Larkin continued, "when you compare it to the Romulan language, which I'm told is kind of similar to ancient Vulcan, unsurprisingly enough, there's something a bit more rough about Andorian - not as rough as Klingon. Now there's a language I could never speak effectively. It always sounds like they're choking, almost."

Tw'eak laughed along with Larkin, although clearly he found the remark to be far more amusing than she did. "Yeah. Are you hungry at all?"

"Actually, I am," Larkin replied. Tw'eak was hardly surprised.

"Good, good." She stood up, slowly. "Sorry, I- surgical complications."

"Just recently?" Larkin got up from his chair and moved slowly next to Tw'eak towards the replicator.

"No. We had just cleared spacedock over Mars when word came in about the Borg being present so close to home. We'd been engaging a Hirogen base out on patrol when our ship was damaged."

"Wow. If I'd just had surgery I would've been down for a month!" Larkin's earnest responses were starting to get on Tw'eak's nerves. "I mean, really, you shouldn't be out of bed like this."

"A lot of people depend on the captain, and I take that trust very seriously." She gave a glance over to Octavia. "Speaking of which. Octavia!" She took a step towards where Octavia was seated. "Simon, may I introduce Lieutenant Commander Eight of Twelve, or Octavia as she prefers to be known, my operations officer aboard the Bonaventure. This is Lieutenant Commander Simon Larkin, formerly of USS Anderlecht. He was in charge of stellar cartography there."

"And gravimetrics," Larkin added quickly."

"And -yes."

Octavia stood. "I had not expected to see you here, Captain. Sorry I didn't say hello earlier. I was reviewing after-action reports with a cup of water and must not have seen you come in."

"It's all right," Tw'eak replied. "I came in through another door. You should join us. We were about to sit down to lunch."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude. Besides, it's not like I need to eat." She leaned forward. "Have to keep my girlish figure."

This was another attempt at a joke on Octavia's part. The worst part about it wasn't that she had so clearly telegraphed it, or that she had tipped her hand so transparently with her cover story. The worst part was that Larkin found it hilarious, snickering and laughing without any sense of control. "You have nothing to worry about in that regard," he finally said after a moment. "I haven't met many former Borg but few of them look as nice as you."

Tw'eak found herself uncertain of how Octavia would handle such a blatant attempt at a compliment. "Thank you," she said quietly. "My condolences on the loss of your shipmates."

"Thank you. We did our best, even if we lost a lot of good people over there. But you know, thanks to you and your captain, it wasn't the first of many more."

Tw'eak grimaced. It was practically the same line she'd heard him say in the turbolift, that had made her think he might be interested. "Who did you hear that from?" she asked. She had to know.

"Well, that's what everyone's been saying. You saved the science ship." Larkin turned to Octavia. "That's what I heard, anyway."

"He was in sickbay," Tw'eak replied with a hint of snark.

Larkin missed this and continued, "Some debris fell on me as I was making my way out. But everyone from my department survived."

"For the size of your crew, a fair number survived, in fact," Octavia recited. "Six hundred eighty-seven survivors from a crew of seven hundred and forty-seven."

"Wow, how did you do that?" Larkin looked at Octavia, astonished. "That was amazing."

Octavia was nonplussed. "I have a much better memory as a result of my experience with the Borg." She smiled at him. "It's the only good thing about having one of these," she added, touching her Borg eyepiece.

Once again, Larkin broke into a laugh. "I bet!"

Tw'eak gritted her teeth and pressed her hand to her back. "Oooh," she moaned. "You know, I suddenly feel awful."

Octavia and Larkin both stopped laughing and looked at Tw'eak. "Are you all right, Captain?"

"Yeah, I just... maybe I better head down to sickbay."

Octavia tapped her commbadge. "Octavia to Didaggo."

Zed's voice replied. "Zed here."

Tw'eak looked up, slightly alarmed. Her excuse to cut out was turning into a medical emergency.

"The captain is in some distress. We are in lounge seven-forward."

"I'll be right there."

"I'm going to try and walk it off," she explained. "I'll have to leave you two and be on my way." She extended her right hand to Larkin, half-hunched over. "A pleasure meeting you," she said.

Larkin shook her hand quickly and looked right past her, making eye contact with Octavia. "So were you part of the Borg for long?"

Tw'eak heard Octavia recite the eleven-plus years she had been a drone for Larkin with precision to the day, and took a quick look back to notice that she held his rapt attention. Secretly dejected at the way things had turned out, she noted that at least for Octavia the experience had proven a positive one. As she emerged into the corridor by the same door she had come in, she saw Zed come bounding along, racing past a pair of crewmen moving at a more leisurely pace. "Medical personnel!" he shouted, before spotting his captain. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Zed produced a medical tricorder, and reached into a small pouch at his waist for a hypospray. "Let me see if I have any- there we go."

"No, just- Zed, put it away. Just stop." Tw'eak waved a hand at Zed despite his being less than a metre away. "Just help me back to my quarters."

"When was the last time you had something to eat?" he asked.

"It's been a while," Tw'eak acknowledged, before laughing to herself.

"What's so funny?" Zed asked.

"Nothing," Tw'eak said as they moved down the corridor together. With another laugh, she added, "Was just wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch. Let's just say... my plans fell through."

* * *

The next few hours for Tw'eak passed relatively slowly. A few of her junior officers dropped by her quarters to see how she was and bid farewell, at least for now. Zed also came by to check on her condition about midway through the afternoon.

"So how does it look?" Tw'eak asked.

"You're lucky you're Andorian," Zed replied.

"I know, but there's a specific reason why?"

"Because you're adapted to live in the cold, you're using maybe twenty-five percent of your overall metabolic effort. That means you're healing a lot more rapidly than most humanoids would. And since you've been moving around so much, you've actually been stimulating the process."

"Maybe bed rest isn't for everyone."

"Oh, you'd still benefit from that, but essentially, when you move, you're re-injuring the healed tissue, but at the same time you're shaping the process of the healing. It'd be like if you'd broke your arm and had it set improperly. Only more elastic in nature."

Tw'eak smiled. "I think I get it."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much - suffice to say that you're making excellent progress and I'm sure Doc will be happy to hear it."

"The sooner I'm no longer on her patient list, the better."

"The sooner you're likely to go back on her list, she'd probably say."

Tw'eak gave Zed a sly grin. "Who, me?" She laughed for a moment, then asked, "What are you planning to do with your leave time?"

"I don't know. Was thinking Risa. How about you, ma'am?"

Tw'eak's nose wrinkled. "Risa is too warm for me. I've been, once, wasn't a fan. I burn really easily in that kind of sunlight."

"Andorian sunburns can be caused even by exposure to UV radiation, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Yeah, sensitive skin. I know all about that. But I probably will go back to Andoria for a couple days, see my brothers' families, and my other relations."

"Do you think they'll be able to salvage the Bonaventure?"

"Well, if it was my call to make I'd just tell them to fix it. It's my ship. Of course I want it back in service. But Starfleet works in its own way. We're lucky that the engineers initiated the emergency shutdown so quickly and that none of the engines or major systems were wrecked. Add to that the fact that we weren't far from Vulcan at the time, and that the ship wasn't assimilated or even boarded... I'd say the Bonaventure stands a good chance of returning to service."

"Ah. Good." Zed seemed relieved. "I'm happy to hear it."

"Yeah, me too."

"I've been talking to quite a few of the crew, over the past few days - the wounded mostly, obviously, but the general feeling is definitely one of unity. We're all proud to serve with you, ma'am. Especially now, with the unit citation and your award."

"There are a lot more awards, and promotions, on that list, y'know. Starfleet only authorized those two in that communique - I've received about fifteen more since then, each with a special commendation for a certain officer here or there. Given the amount of action we've seen lately, I'm not really surprised at the backlog of medals and citations, but this has been kind of overwhelming. And it's all a testament to the crew."

"And to their captain," Zed added. "Let's face it, you're a big part of it. You're an inspiration to this crew."

"It's... well, I don't want to destroy the Andorian mystique or anything like that, but it's hard to believe. I don't do anything differently or try to provide any inspiration to anyone." Tw'eak had to be even more bluntly honest with herself. She didn't believe what Zed was saying to be true. Inspiration, leader, role model... insincere. It was something she was pretty certain people just said rather than meant, like the "good people" that Simon Larkin had repeatedly alluded to having "lost". When Tw'eak referred to good people, she had multitudes she could refer to, and name, and even list reasons why they should be so considered as good people. It wasn't just a talking point, it was a roll call of fallen comrades who wouldn't be coming home. "It just sort of happens that way," she continued.

"It really does. Anyway, I'm going to be heading out on the fifteen-thirty shuttle. I just wanted to tell you that I'm proud to tell people you're my commander, and I'll be doing a lot of that over the coming days." He smiled. "Our action against the Borg is news across the quadrant."

Tw'eak was mortified. "It is."

"Oh, yeah. They're talking about you like you're the next Kathryn Janeway. It's about time the rest of Starfleet feels you're a hero. We all sure do."

"I... well, this is a lot to take in. Better get going, don't want to miss your shuttle."

"Right. You'll be okay, right?"

"I'll be fine. Go on, get packed. Have fun."

"Thanks, ma'am. Thanks for everything."

Tw'eak nodded. "You too, Zolnaen. Thanks."

Zed saluted hastily and left. As he went, Tw'eak deflated. She wanted nothing more than to order the computer to lock the door and inform any further callers that she was not to be disturbed. She wanted to crawl into the nearest service duct and stay there until she was ordered to return to duty. This was not what she wanted. Fame, adulation, renown... it was fleeting and it was pointless. She considered her options. Simply getting onto a shuttle or a transport and going to places to holiday rapidly proved not to be an option. She briefly considered doing some sort of bizarre swap with Dashii - her sister could pose as the hero-captain and play the role far more effectively while she quietly went about the duties of a shield distribution engineer onboard the Majestic. Once the day came they would switch back. She was as far as figuring out how to fake her scars on Dashii's form when the comms notification sounded again.

"Sh'abbas. Go ahead."

"This is Lieutenant Maro in communications, ma'am. I have a priority transmission from Starfleet Command for you. It's Admiral Quinn."

Tw'eak straightened up, turning the nearest viewer towards her. "I'm ready here."

Admiral Quinn's face appeared on screen. "Hello, Captain."

"Admiral. This is an unexpected surprise."

"I wanted to contact you to see how you're doing."

"All right, I guess. Just saying my goodbyes to my crew. They're all looking forward to a little time off."

"I can imagine. Could use some myself. And I imagine you could as well, but I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I've been reviewing your recent reports, and we've decided to accept your recommendation regarding Commander Sharpe. Once he's recovered from his wounds, which I'm assured should be sometime in the next month, we'll be promoting him to Captain."

"I'm happy to hear that, sir, but I'm not sure how it relates to me."

"It's our intention to offer him command of the Bonaventure once he's recovered."

Tw'eak felt suddenly like the room around her had been stricken into vacuum. She felt herself grip the armrest of the chair and brace herself for the impact. "You're removing me from command?" she asked, then quickly added, "sir?"

"Starfleet will be re-assigning you to a new project. I'll be asking you to select six additional officers from among your current complement to follow you to your new assignment."

"Six officers. So it'll be another starship posting, then."

"Not initially. There isn't much more I can tell you over subspace. Suffice to say that we have a need for you, Tw'eak, and your role in the time ahead, though not a combat role, may eventually prove more valuable to the war effort, and the Federation, than anything you can accomplish on the Bonaventure."

"Am I to understand, then, that this is not intended as a demotion?"

"No, no - far from it, in fact. You'll be a provisional Rear Admiral for the time being, and your promotion will officially take place when the Bonaventure returns to commission under her new captain, at the same ceremony where you're to receive the Pike Medal."

"I... wow." Tw'eak's attitude had totally changed. "What should I tell my officers? And which officers, sir?"

"Ideally you'd pick one from each of the major branches - tactical, security, operations, engineering, science and medical. Their expertise is essential to the continuation of this project. They should then report to you for transport to Earth tomorrow by oh-nine-hundred."

"So no leave for any of us, then."

"I'm afraid not, no." Quinn nodded. "But it'll be well worth it."

"And only six?" Tw'eak counted whom she would want on one hand.

"Yes. Although I should clarify. Choosing just your senior officers will put future Captain Sharpe at a disadvantage, at least initially. They should be officers whose input and understanding of their chosen professions you can rely upon in an advisory capacity."

"I understand that, sir, I just..." Tw'eak smiled sheepishly. "I would want to bring a seventh, our ship's counselor. For entirely personal reasons, sir. She's a good friend, and I've come to rely upon her for her insights into people and their reactions."

"That would be..." Quinn touched his screen. "Lieutenant Commander T'uni of Vulcan?"

"Yes, sir."

Quinn chuckled. "The way you talked about her, I assumed she would be a Betazoid."

"No, just an old friend. It helps to keep at least one person around who will tell it to you as it is." Tw'eak considered it for a moment, and then realized she had several people who would more than likely do exactly that.

"Very well. Submit your personnel request to me as soon as possible, and I'll make it happen."

"Can I tell you right now?"

"If you wish, yes."

"Let's see. In addition to T'uni, I'd want Doctor Ellington, my chief medical officer. And definitely Lieutenant Commander Eight of Twelve to join me, she's my operations officer. And-"

"You mean Commander Eight of Twelve. She'll be receiving her promotion at the same time as you. But, wait a moment, that's three of the Bonaventure's senior officers," Quinn noted.

"The rest are junior officers... Lieutenant Aurora duBois, my warp core specialist, and Lieutenant Zolnaen Didaggo, who is serving as a medic but also has training and qualifications as a biochemist and a xenobiologist. Will I require any particular tactical qualifications from these officers? I mean, I've served in many of those roles myself, and my flight officer is one of the best - I'd rather not take him from the Bonaventure where he's most needed."

"What about your tactical officer?"

"My previous tactical officer was recently killed in action. Lieutenant Morl has been serving in the role, but given the Bonaventure's primary role in a tactical disposition, I wouldn't want to have a new officer learning the ropes. And honestly? Morl would be best utilized getting the targeting and weapons systems to full efficiency, he's a good troubleshooter. And he and Lio'wan work very well together." Tw'eak had an idea. "What about Dazz? Lieutenant Birmal Dazz, sir, she was my sensors officer. She's on medical recovery presently."

"I don't know the name, but I can look into it. It'd be at Starfleet Medical's discretion either way. One more?"

"Lieutenant Denver O'Leary. My helmsman. He's currently on Earth or somewhere since he was being treated for injuries when we were called into action."

"Right. Okay." Quinn over to an orderly, who showed him the names on the padd. "That's two of your- three of your bridge crew recovering from injuries, and one recently killed." Quinn looked unimpressed.

"Four recovering, sir, including myself."

"Yes, that's right. I remember from your report. Which one was it you were trying to save?"

"Lieutenant Dazz, sir." Another idea came to Tw'eak. It'd never work, she thought. But she had to try. "May I ask, sir... would it be possible to name an alternate? In the event Lieutenant Dazz is unavailable."

"What's the name?"

"Lieutenant Dashichal Iolo Zh'abbas."

Quinn looked up after a moment. "Your sister. Currently serving on the Majestic."

Tw'eak made a half-grimace and snapped her bio-synthetic fingers. It hadn't worked.

"I'm not going to say 'no', but I will remind you that Starfleet has a strict policy against family members serving together onboard, which is even more strictly enforced during wartime."

"They used to let families live together on bigger starships."

"They still do if their role is primarily as an Explorer. But that's a family, a married couple with their children... not members of that family once they've grown up, and most definitely not members of the same family in the same rank structure. There are exemptions for certain species, but I'm sorry, Andorians don't qualify."

"I just thought, if I'm going to be away from the front lines for a while, might as well ask."

"I can appreciate your sentiments, and your instincts towards your sister."

"It's just... we've lost four of the seven in our generation of our family."

Quinn shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Tw'eak, I wish there was something I could do. This war has put a lot of families in the state yours is in, including my own. Besides which, these would have to be Bonaventure officers. Majestic will be returning to active service tomorrow."

"I know. And we'll be reporting to Earth Spacedock tomorrow afternoon."

Quinn looked up at his orderly, then off into the distance for a moment. "I'll contact the Majestic's commander, see if he can spare your sister - at least for the initial phase of... well. Come to my office once you arrive. I'll explain everything once you're here."

"Thank you, sir. Looking forward to it. Sh'abbas out."

Admiral Quinn's face disappeared from the screen. Tw'eak nearly bounced in her chair with excitement. Her, a rear admiral! Her sister, alongside her! Her officers, working with her! Her assignment, a complete mystery! An exciting, unexpected mystery!

"Sh'abbas to Didaggo."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Change of plans. Can you come to my quarters for a few minutes?"

"But I have a shuttle-"

"No, you don't. Sorry."

Tw'eak could hear Zed shuffling about, then a muffled sigh. "Be right there, ma'am."

Satisfied, Tw'eak asked the Majestic communications officer to contact O'Leary, then asked her other officers to meet in her quarters via commbadge. They had much to discuss.


	18. Chapter 18

This had been O'Leary's idea. The building was a roughly ovoid structure, its interior comprised of a series of tables, each with four chairs, full-length windows tinted more strongly against the bright sunshine of the mid-afternoon than they would be at dawn. The road, once the essential artery of the North American economy, could be barely seen nearby, and was discernible as a faint line stretching off into the distance, down the hill and off towards the river, another once-essential means of transportation. The larger of the two rivers was the St. Lawrence, and the town nearby, at the mouth of the smaller river, was called Ogdensburg, in what had once been the state of New York near the Canadian border. Locals knew this place on the hill near town, as did O'Leary. He had grown up here, on the outskirts of Ogdensburg. His family had been here, on this hill, serving up all-day breakfast and all-you-can-eat ribs for generations. It was tradition - either you worked at the diner, or you enlisted in Starfleet.

The very fact that Jackie's Diner continued to exist was a testament to the fact that they did things differently there. The tables, the jukebox, even the washrooms were of a contemporary technology, even if they didn't look to be. The floor was still sticky in places, as it had been for generations, even despite having been replaced several times, like the ghosts of stains from linoleum tiles of centuries before. Even the exterior structure had been refit and reinforced over the years, expanded slightly, its entire infrastructure re-done to no longer rely upon wells and septic tanks, but rather more complicated technology. But it was the absence of a food replicator that set Jackie's Diner apart from the rest. All the food they served was grown by local farmers who continued to do things the old-fashioned way, even in the 25th century, and bought at market or in bulk.

The captain's yacht from the Bonaventure touched down on the cracked pavement outside, landing in what had once been the building's parking lot. Its lines and asphalt had faded into near-obscurity over time, but the clearing was sufficient for Lio'wan to park the yacht without any issues. The flight over from the Majestic had proven uneventful, and the officers Tw'eak had requested -Doc, T'uni, Octavia, Aurora, Zed- had made themselves available to come. Lio'wan had come along at Tw'eak's invitation as well, although she hadn't told him yet that his path and theirs would be parted for the time to come.

The parting had been difficult for Tw'eak. In the end, she had decided to go without any further fanfare, and make her way to her new assignment in secret. She hadn't told her officers yet any of what was in the works, wanting to save her announcement for when O'Leary was among them again. As for Birmal Dazz, her recovery continued in Earth Spacedock overhead. When the time was right, Tw'eak would have to pay her a visit. As for that other officer she had requested, Dashii was on duty when Tw'eak made her way from the Majestic. A quick commbadge conversation between the two of them had been sufficient farewell. An old Andorian superstition around belaboured goodbyes having an unpleasant way of becoming final was part of the motivation, but more than that, the two sisters had finally mended many of the fences between them, and had completed a plasmonic sculpture which Dashii had taken to keeping in her quarters. Theirs was not really a parting but a newly rebuilt connection that would hopefully continue to thrive.

Lio'wan helped Tw'eak down the walkway ramp and into the open. The feeling of sunlight on the shoulders of her dark-coloured uniform made her arch her back to meet the warmth. She stopped for a moment, and looked around. "I love Earth," she said to Lio'wan. "The whole planet looks like this."

"Not enough trees for my liking," the big Caitian replied.

From out of the diner came O'Leary, with a smile as big as all outdoors, as the saying went. There was a generally pleasant feel to the reunion, as he came up to Tw'eak and shook her hand, then turned to each of his shipmates and greeted them in turn. "I am so glad you could make it," O'Leary cheered.

"Shall we go in?" Tw'eak asked after a moment.

"Please! My mom's been busy this morning." O'Leary moved to the door and held it open. "I helped, of course."

"Of course," Octavia replied. "Thank you."

As Tw'eak stepped through the door, the smell was incomparable. Tw'eak could detect baked goods, fried meat and some other delicious cooking going on in the back room, and it was unlike anything she had smelt in ages. The eight officers, many of them sniffing the air or smiling in anticipation, were escorted to a table near the door by O'Leary, who sat down among them. "This is gonna be great." He smiled as he looked around, pouring glasses of water for everyone from a pitcher in the centre of the table. From the kitchen came a loud clearing of a throat. "Oh!" O'Leary sprang up. "Sorry, come on out." From around the corner came two women, one older and clad in a grease-stained apron, her hair alternately dark blonde and grey, the other petite and cute, with a raven-haired pixie cut and a pair of sparkling green eyes. "This is my mom, and my girlfriend, Emma." He turned to the two women. "These are my crew. Well, I mean, Captain Sh'abbas' crew- I mean from the ship."

"It's all right, we're used to him," Tw'eak called out. She stood, with a little difficulty, and O'Leary's mom moved to meet her. "I'm Captain Sh'abbas."

"Dwina O'Leary. A pleasure to meet you. Gordon has told me so many things." She smiled at her son. "We've been spoiling him the past little bit."

"Would you mind if I had a few minutes with him? Starfleet has orders for us." She looked to O'Leary. "I figured I'd wait until we got here to tell everyone."

"It'll save him the trouble of writing to us about, then," Mrs. O'Leary replied. "I've got a few things to get ready. Come along, Emma girl."

O'Leary exchanged glances with his girlfriend as she followed his mother, a look of disdain bred from familiarity. "Emma's been working here since I enlisted." He looked at Tw'eak. "We're planning on getting married next time I'm home on leave."

"Congratulations," Tw'eak praised. "Did you just ask her?"

"Yeah. I know I missed the fight against the Borg, and I'm sorry about that, ma'am-"

Tw'eak raised a hand. "Nothing you could help." She smiled, asking, "How are you feeling now?"

"Ready to get back to work, actually. Doctors say I'm clear for even EV work now."

"That's good to hear." She laughed slightly, adding, "not that you missed much."

"I heard. Old Bonnie's laid up in the shipyard for now."

"Old Bonnie?"

"Oh." O'Leary shook his head at himself. "The Bonaventure. It's a fairly common nickname among the lower echelons. Surprised you'd never heard it before."

"I probably have, I just never put it together. Anyway, come to the table for a minute. Do you mind if I tell them?"

"Not at all."

Tw'eak moved in her belaboured fashion back to her chair, steadying herself as she sat down on the bench seating, next to Octavia and across from Lio'wan. "I don't want to interrupt, but there's a few things I need to discuss with all of you."

The table fell silent. Aside from T'uni, who was examining a small menu card, all eyes turned to Tw'eak.

"I wanted to bring you together to talk to you about the future. Things are changing all the time, as we know, but there are a few changes that are going to affect all of us. The good news first. O'Leary's getting married."

It took a moment for what Tw'eak was saying to register, and the general anxiety turned into a brief round of applause for O'Leary. "Thanks," he said with a shrug.

"Now, then." Tw'eak looked around for a moment. "I probably shouldn't be sitting when I do this." She stood back up again, taking a moment to do it.

"Any excuse not to sit down," Doc clucked.

"Oh, stow it. I'm not on duty."

"Could've fooled us."

Tw'eak finally stood up fully, and gave Doc a withering stare as a comeback. "But enough about that. I had a conversation just a couple of hours ago with Admiral Quinn. Now, I know that several of you cancelled plans in order to join us, and I want to assure you that the reason why was not simply a going-away party or anything of that nature. It's more than that.

"I've been informed that Starfleet intends to assign me to a project of some kind. Whatever it is, it'll be vital to the Federation, I'm assured. I'll find out more about what's involved tomorrow, when I report to Earth Spacedock for my briefing."

The table was silent, aghast. "Does that mean you're leaving, ma'am?" Zed asked after a long moment.

"Not exactly." Now the table responded with confusion, but before anyone could direct any questions, Tw'eak continued. "Admiral Quinn informed me that this new assignment would require me to be placed in some sort of advisory capacity. In order to serve as such, I'm being provided with an opportunity to bring with me a small staff of officers from the Bonaventure."

"And that's us?" O'Leary guessed.

"For the most part, yes. Over the past weeks I've sent a lot of reports and updates to Starfleet Command. What I can now tell you is that, when the crew of the Bonaventure returns to Earth Spacedock to either rejoin her or be reassigned to another vessel, a number of officers will be presented with promotions and awards, in addition to myself. Starfleet's seen fit to promote me to the rank of Rear Admiral." There was a smattering of applause, but Tw'eak raised her hands. "No, really- let me finish. Both Octavia and Lio'wan will be promoted to full commander, and Aurora will now be Lieutenant Commander Doucette. Zed, you'll be a full lieutenant - no more 'junior grade' for you." She drew in a breath before she finished. "And Captain Tucker Sharpe will be the Bonaventure's next commander. We hope." She held up a pair of crossed fingers. "Am I doing this right?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Aurora said with a smile.

"Good." She looked at Lio'wan. "I want you to know that, as my way of saying 'thank you' for rescuing me, and for just generally being one of the most reliable, capable and generally wonderful officers I've ever served with, I gave my personal endorsement to your being chosen as Sharpe's first officer."

Lio'wan made a bit of a face. "Thank you, ma'am. Commander Sharpe -I should say, Captain Sharpe and I never really got along all that well, but I appreciate your confidence."

"Commander Sharpe and I never got along particularly well, either. He's cautious and he's contemplative, but he's a capable officer and I'm sure he'll make an excellent commander." Tw'eak smiled broadly, adding "with someone around to keep an eye on him."

This brought Lio'wan's full-on tiger's grin come into view. "To be the claw in his backside, you mean," he said with a touch of a growl.

Tw'eak feigned outrage. "I never said that." She turned to T'uni. "Did I say that?"

"You may as well have," T'uni replied.

"Oh, really now!" The table dissolved into laughter as Tw'eak sat back down.

"So we don't know what the plans are?" Zed mused after a bit.

"Well... they asked me to bring along someone from each department." She looked around the table, starting with Aurora. "An engineer, a medical specialist, an operations specialist, a scientist, and a tactical or security officer." Tw'eak tilted her head slightly. "I can probably handle the tactical side of things just fine, but I thought O'Leary might be useful to have around." She smiled at the young ensign, and added, "if only because it gives us an excuse to come back here regularly."

"Oh, I would love that!" O'Leary said excitedly.

"Wait a minute," Doc interrupted. "You said one medical specialist. But you picked three."

"Well, not exactly. I asked for T'uni to be brought along because I've trusted her insights and judgments of people's characters for almost as long as I've been in Starfleet. And let's not forget that Zed came out of the Academy as a xenobiologist, and became a combat medic after the fact."

"It's true," Zed acknowledged. "Although I'd like to note my objection, ma'am, to being brought along."

Tw'eak was surprised, looking at Zed slightly unnerved. "Go ahead."

"I had a perfect opportunity to study some xenobiology and now I can't."

An awkward silence descended over the table. "What do you mean?" Aurora asked after a moment, in a hesitant tone.

"I was gonna go to Risa. Do you realize the kinds of wildlife they have there?"

The tension broke, the table erupted in laughter, and Tw'eak relaxed.

"I was finally going to put that degree to work!" Zed chimed in again after a moment, to more laughs.

"Some real in-depth study you had planned!" Doc added.

The laughing went on for a few moments longer before Tw'eak spoke again. "There's one more thing I should mention. I requested another officer join us on this mission. Whether or not she'll be able to is still an open question."

"Is it your sister?" Aurora asked, excitedly.

Tw'eak once again found herself unnerved by something one of her officers said. Reacting quickly, she realized this was wishful thinking on Aurora's part, due to her desire to serve alongside her own sister, Bianca. "No, sorry. That's not going to happen. Regulations."

"Aw, I was really hoping," Aurora responded, dejected.

"No, it's Lieutenant Dazz." The mood in the room became sombre at the mention of their stricken comrade. "If she's well enough to join us, I would like her to. She spent a year in security before training in sensors. She'd be the ideal person for that job, assuming she's well enough to participate."

"I've been to see her," O'Leary admitted. "A couple times, actually. I brought Emma up with me the one time, to tell her the news. She's... well, I'm not sure" -he looked at Doc- "because I don't really know many Bolians, but she was kind of a greyish-green colour, not the purply-blue I remembered her being. She's got some help breathing, but she can't use her hands or legs yet." O'Leary looked at his captain apologetically. "I hope she can come, but I don't know."

"I can make a few polite inquiries," Doc offered. "I know a few people on Spacedock."

"And I have a few friends on Bolarus," Tw'eak continued. "My tour on the Nelson involved a few Bolian freighters being rescued. I might call in a few favours."

Zed spoke up. "It might also depend on what we'll be asked to do. If we're not asked to do much that involves hands or feet, I can help."

"Me, too," Doc added.

"And I can assist if she requires anyone to talk to about her experience," T'uni said.

"Well, that's for tomorrow. I don't want to hold things up much longer. I can barely keep my thoughts together with the way it smells in here."

A murmur of approval went up, and O'Leary stood and moved into the next room. "You gotta try the ribs," he said as he went.

"Ribs?" Octavia considered. "What kind of ribs?"

Doc pointed towards Octavia's empty plate. "I'd eat them with vegetables, or some rice, if I were you. It'll wreak havoc on your system if you're not used to it."

"Think I'd rather just have the vegetables," Zed commented. "Saurians tend to eat very little meat."

"Not Caitians," Lio'wan replied with an agitated anticipation. "Real meat..." He pressed the palms of his hands together to calm himself.

"I concur with Lieutenant Didaggo," T'uni offered. "I am hopeful that there are vegetables."

"Let's just enjoy whatever they come out with," Tw'eak sighed. "I'm certain we will."

"Oh, I am so excited," Aurora exclaimed. "I haven't had real food in so long!" She turned to Tw'eak. "This was such a good idea, Captain!"

"Don't thank me - but please be sure to thank O'Leary and his family."

Out came the man of the hour, and his future bride, each carrying two massive platters of steaks, racks of ribs, steamed vegetables and baked potatoes. "And here it comes!" Each of them placed a platter upon an open space at the table. "Just gotta get the salad, and maybe some real drinks-"

"Wait," Tw'eak said, rising to her feet, this time with a hand from Lio'wan, who sat across the table from her. "Thank you." She reached down and picked up her glass. "Before we get any further-"

"I knew she'd get up again," Doc quipped.

"Before we get any further," Tw'eak repeated. "A toast." She placed her glass carefully, unsteadily, in her left hand and put her other hand on Lio'wan's shoulder. "To the Bonaventure -hopefully- and her crew."

"To Old Bonnie!" O'Leary replied, his arm around Emma. The rest of the crew assembled at the table followed suit, taking a sip of water as toasted Old Bonnie, her new captain and first officer, and the rest of her gallant crew.

* * *

The meal completed, the plates of food having been replaced by half-finished cups of coffee, tea and, to Tw'eak's surprise, genuine katheka, the crew sat, pleasantly sated, at the table.

"I haven't eaten that well since before I went to the Academy," Aurora said, breaking a contemplative moment.

"I don't think I ever have," Octavia joked.

O'Leary looked in from the next room. "Anyone want seconds?"

There was a general noise of protest and a grunt from Lio'wan, who sat with his head in one hand, his shoulders angled downwards on one side so that he almost leaned up against T'uni.

"I think I better understand the humanoid concept of marking a transition with a meal," the Vulcan offered. "There is a significant amount of effort put into the everyday-"

"And into this meal," Tw'eak noted. "Thank you again," she called out to the next room. As O'Leary brought out his mother and girlfriend, the table applauded, and individual thank-yous were heard all around.

"As I was saying, the efforts put into the everyday come to an end. The situation is about to change. By marking that transition with a sort of small ceremonial gathering like this, the bonds between individuals are reinforced before the necessity of once again making significant efforts, this time to adapt to the changes in the everyday."

"A break in the routine, to break the routine - essentially," Tw'eak acknowledged.

"Fascinating."

Octavia raised an interesting question. "Can I ask, where are we to return to after this?"

"I've arranged quarters for all of you on Earth Spacedock. Including you, Octavia - they'll have everything relocated from the Majestic."

"And the flowers?"

"I took care of that myself," Lio'wan responded. "We had them all in transfer cases, as you remember - so I had the flight crews from the Bonaventure transport runabouts full of the cases, carefully stacked, to Starfleet Academy's groundskeeping department."

Octavia seemed relieved. "Thank you. I should make a point of going over there this afternoon to see to it that the nanite-bees are fully explained."

"We didn't take those with us." Lio'wan pointed at Octavia. "Those are your personal property, not the ship's."

"I see. Then I shall have to go to Spacedock before I make my way there."

"That'll probably be next stop for all of us," Tw'eak said. "Not that anyone's pushing us out the door."

"I hope I can go see my mom for a few hours," Aurora said with a smile.

"I'd like to go home myself, see Annie," Doc Ellington added, referring to her partner. "I haven't had a night at home in what seems like ages."

"No objection here," Tw'eak replied. "Just be sure to arrange transport up to spacedock by oh-nine-hundred."

"You're always welcome to come by for breakfast," O'Leary offered with a fiendish grin.

"Are you kidding?" Doc said with amazement. "I may never need to eat again!"

Lio'wan stood up. "I should get the captain's yacht back to the Bonaventure." He smiled at Tw'eak. "Now that it's someone else's to use, that is."

"Thanks, Lio'wan," Aurora said. "It was really nice! I hope I get to ride in another one someday."

"If you ask nicely, I'm sure Sharpe wouldn't mind if you took a look at its engines," Zed joked.

"Oh, no, I meant- never mind."

"In that case," Tw'eak said, joining in, "it'll probably take you at most, a year, before you make captain yourself. Then you'll have your chance."

"A year. Wow, really?"

"Well, I hear they're just giving out rear admiral's rank these days, so who knows."

There was more laughter, and Lio'wan took his leave, offering farewells to all as he made his way to the exit. After a moment, Tw'eak thought better of just letting him walk out like that, and excused herself to follow him out. She called out to him, moving tenderly across the cracked pavement of the surface, and saw him explaining something to a young boy with light brown hair and a huge smile.

"...and that's where the RCS - er, reaction control system thrusters are located. They let me make tiny changes to my course so I can fly the ship where the captain wants it to go."

"Cool," the boy said. "I've never seen a warp nacelle up close before. I've never seen a Caitian for real, either!"

Lio'wan laughed. "Nice to meet you." His ear tilted in Tw'eak's direction, and as he heard her footprints coming closer, he added, "I bet you've never met a real Andorian, either."

"Never!" the boy replied. As Tw'eak came around the corner of the craft, the boy's eyes opened wide. "You're- wow, you're the Andorian captain from the news!" He practically jumped up and down. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

"Having lunch," Tw'eak quipped. "This place makes the best food. I heard about it and came all the way from Andoria to try it."

"Really! Wow! Kids at school are never gonna believe this! Can I, um... oh, this is so cool!"

Tw'eak extended her hand to the young kid. She hadn't seen many human children up close herself, but he looked about the size of a ten-year-old Andorian child. "Here, tell you what." She reached up and took the rank pips from the shoulder flap of her uniform. "This might help."

The boy's jaw went wide open, his hands receiving the rank pips as though they were made of molten lead. "I can't even- wow!"

"What's your name?" Tw'eak asked.

"I'm Henry- uh, Henry Louis Maderich, ma'am!"

"Any plans to go to the Academy, Henry?"

"Just as soon as I'm old enough, ma'am! I can't wait to show those bad guys - Borg and Breen and everyone!"

Tw'eak smiled. "Next time I'll see 'em, I'll warn 'em you're coming."

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted crisply, standing at near-perfect attention. Both Lio'wan and Tw'eak took such a salute very seriously, and returned it in kind.

"Alright, you better get on home now."

"I was just telling Lion how I was doing my math homework, when I heard your ship coming down." He made a bit of a shy face. "I kind of had to, well, sort of sneak out of the house, but I never thought I'd get to see a ship like this in all my life!"

"Well, I'll tell you what. If you go knock on that door right over there and ask for a nice man named Mr. O'Leary, I bet he could introduce you to a few of my officers."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's one of them, after all. Then maybe Lion here can take you home."

Lio'wan didn't miss a beat. "Actually, ma'am, I was thinking..." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially with Tw'eak for a moment.

"Yes, I believe that's perfectly in order. The safest alternative, really."

Henry nearly leapt up and down in anticipation. "What?"

"It only makes sense that we get you home safely," Tw'eak suggested.

"Who knows what sorts of awful creatures could have been lurking in ambush between here and home?" Lio'wan asked. "I better give you a ride home."

"REALLY!?"

"For your own protection, of course." Lio'wan pressed a button on the rear of the craft, and a door opened at its side. "First, though, you best do as the captain says, go meet everyone else."

"Oh my! Wow! Thank you!"

"Go on, say hello," Tw'eak said, pointing back towards the door.

Henry went running off, and Tw'eak could hear Lio'wan laughing quietly to himself. "Kids. I love 'em."

Tw'eak watched Henry go and stepped a little closer to Lio'wan. "Yeah. I can't remember, you have..?"

"Yeah, three kits. Two girls and a boy."

Tw'eak smiled. "Yeah. That's right." She turned to face him. "You're lucky."

"I.. know. I've heard stories, around ship, why you don't have a family of your own."

"It's not by choice, I can tell you that."

"I understand. For a Caitian, our families are our greatest pride."

"Same with us." Tw'eak didn't know what to say for a moment. "I want to tell you something, before you go, but I'd prefer it not become a story around ship."

"Sure."

"I regret not being able to bring you along with us."

"It's all right, I understand your reasons. Sharpe doesn't live up to his name."

Tw'eak tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Lio'wan held out a hand, showing the claws at their ends. "He's not much in that department."

"No. He's an engineer by background, but he'll make a good captain. He's sharp in other ways, so to speak. But there are other reasons."

"There are?"

"Yes. Aside from Doc and T'uni, none of the officers I chose are married, or have a family. T'uni's a personal friend, and Doc's been a part of my life for most of my career."

Lio'wan nodded. "I understand." He smiled. "That explains Morl, too."

"I just didn't want to take any chances. If Starfleet's sending us into harm's way again, I mean." She brushed a few errant hairs down the side of her face. "I think I realize now that whatever destiny the universe has in store for me, it'll involve a lot more combat, a lot more chances to be killed. And, I don't know, maybe if I can increase the chances of someone making it back to their children again by not bringing them along..."

"You mind if I speak freely?"

"Not at all."

"You're running a huge risk by doing that. Sticking with just young kids, I mean. You can't transfer them all out because they're married. And lots of married people serve in Starfleet - sometimes together, sometimes with their kids right there at whatever station they're at. Some of them become legends. Look at Ben Sisko. He had to leave his son behind when the Dominion took Deep Space Nine. I can appreciate what you're trying to do, but please, if you're ever posted in a place where you need a capable flight deck officer, it would be an honour to serve with you again."

"Lio'wan... I..." What? Tw'eak asked herself. She was attracted to him, that much was certain, as was his admiration, if not mutual attraction. But what was she supposed to say? Nothing came to mind, and she felt herself becoming emotionally uncontrollable. Like an out of control shuttlecraft, she decided to just bury herself in the nearest obstacle before anyone else got hurt. She embraced Lio'wan and pulled him close, quite unprofessionally. The burly Caitian was, for once, totally taken by surprise. He put an arm around her and drew her in. She strained to reach up to his height, and gave him a quick kiss on his chin. "Thank you."

His ears back, his face blushing, Lio'wan stammered out a few incoherent syllables before saying, "Just doing my job, ma'am."

Tw'eak released him from a tight embrace, loosely holding her hands around his midsection. "Thank you. I'm alive because of you."

"I don't know about that, ma'am. The counselor could've just as easily carried you to that lifepod."

"But you held me in your arms the whole way off. You took a huge risk. I don't feel like I deserve it." She looked troubled as she gazed at him. "You could've been thrown around or hurt yourself."

"Not likely. I had my tail extended out pretty far to counter-balance. You didn't see, but I knelt over the side of the seat, braced my arm where your head was against the bulkhead. It would've taken a total system failure to cause me to have to move - and even then, not much." He smiled. "I scored top marks in EV suit training because of my equilibrium for a reason, ma'am."

"I know, but... thank you just the same." She looked away, embarrassed. "Felt really good, you know. To be held by someone like that." She smiled as she watched his expression register embarrassment. "Oh, come on now, I'm not your commanding officer anymore, and besides, you've got a mate back home."

"True, but... I just didn't expect those sorts of things to affect you."

"I'm an Andorian. We're big bouncing blue bags of emotional turmoil."

"I know, but you're not a typical Andorian in that regard. I suppose I'm just surprised you don't have someone. I always figured that was what it was. The way you told us all to think of home, to fight for them, before we attacked the Hirogen base... I figured you would've had someone there waiting for you."

"No." An uncomfortable silence followed before she said, "Better off alone, sometimes I guess. And almost everyone I meet calls me 'ma'am', and regulations... well." A slight breeze knocked the loose strand of hair back into her eyes again. "Anyway. If you know anyone who's interested in a half-rebuilt Andorian shen with no kids and lots of baggage, I expect to be introduced."

Lio'wan laughed, loudly, almost a roar. "I'll keep an eye out, ma'am."

"Tw'eak. Please. I would very much enjoy continuing to be on friendly terms with you once you've headed back to the Bonaventure."

"I would want nothing less." Lio'wan smiled proudly.

"Captain?" A voice at the door of the diner called out for Tw'eak, presumably O'Leary's. Henry came running back out to where he had left Tw'eak and Lio'wan together. He was carrying a half-transparent tray containing leftovers from the meal, presumably to bring home for dinner. "There she is."

"Can I please, please go look inside?" Henry begged.

"Sure," Lio'wan replied.

"Let me show you around," O'Leary added, following Henry into the captain's yacht.

"Guess you've got a little tour to fly," Tw'eak said to Lio'wan.

"This? This will be a joy ride. With your permission, of course."

"Permission granted." Tw'eak gave Lio'wan another hug, this one as tight as she could manage. Suddenly she felt herself being swept into the air, and held against his chest. She remembered the feeling, and with tears swelling in her eyes, she nestled in tightly against his warm chest, and said "thank you" once again. After a long, splendid moment, he lowered her gently to the ground. Looking at each other fondly, she placed a hand on his shoulder, patting him on the back, as he turned and made his way into the large shuttlecraft, and then made her way slowly back inside.


	19. Chapter 19

The medical ward of Earth Spacedock was just like Tw'eak remembered it. The lengthy stretches of bio-beds, some invisible behind a thin curtain for privacy's sake, few empty, each with their own patient - this one a Rigelian, that one Andorian like herself, down the way the distinctive bump shape of a Tellarite - and the buzzing activity of nurses, orderlies, doctors and technicians moving about from one to the next as they were needed. She passed through one ward, into the next, slowly making her way to the extended care facility, and the bedside of a friend she had there.

A Saurian nurse looked up as Tw'eak passed through a large wood-and-glass door. "May I help you?"

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Birmal Dazz."

"You realize that visiting hours end in less than half an hour."

"I won't need that long."

The nurse shrugged her shoulders and pointed to her left, and Tw'eak could clearly make out a Bolian figure, the only one in the ward, upon a bio-bed about a third of the way down. Tw'eak nodded her thanks and moved towards her, hoping to peek and see if Dazz was awake.

"Captain?" Dazz spotted her at the door, and called to Tw'eak, followed by a rasping breath. Tw'eak moved as quickly as she could to Dazz's side. "I didn't expect to see you." Another painful-sounding breath followed.

"I would've come sooner if I hadn't spent so much time being a patient myself." She smiled as warmly as she could manage. "You know Doc. How have you been?"

Dazz responded in measured intervals, each of a certain number of seconds in length as she fought for air. "I'm better now... The doctors tell me I... should recover in time, but... I've been in the hyperbaric chamber a lot... They fixed my ears so I can hear again... and stand up properly again."

"Did they give you any idea how much longer you'll be in here?"

"Not really." She took a ragged breath. "My lungs still aren't normal... I can't move around very much... eventually they'll be healed and fine again but... in the meantime I can't return to the ship... I'm really sorry about all of this..."

"It's hardly your fault. I'm just glad we could see each other again." She raised her hand. "Let me do the talking for a minute, I have something to tell you. We won't be going back to the Bonaventure. I don't know if you've heard, but we had the majority of repairs done when Starfleet asked for all available ships to counter a Borg incursion. We engaged them and, in the process, the ship was badly damaged. We lost eleven people, at last report, but there were a lot more wounded. The important part is that we succeeded in stopping the Borg. As for me. I'm still recovering, too, but I have new orders. It's why I'm here."

Dazz had been making occasional gasps to try to interrupt, but Tw'eak hadn't permitted her to do so. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Stiff. I get a lot of pain. It's more of an annoyance, not being able to move freely, but I don't regret it, if that's what you're asking."

"I've thought about it... a lot, actually, since that day... and I can't imagine why you did... that, coming after me like you did."

Tw'eak looked off into the distance, considering it for a moment. She smiled after a few seconds and said, "I wish I could tell you." She looked back to Dazz. "It was happening and I didn't want it to, so I guess that's all that happened, I don't really know." She cut ahead of Dazz. "And before you go on about the risk I took and the fact that we could've both been out there, I know. I didn't really put a lot of thought into it, I just didn't want to see you die like that." Tw'eak shrugged. "That's all there is to it."

Dazz nodded. "I'm grateful, you know... that you did that, that you saved... my life."

"It's nothing any one of us wouldn't have done for each other. If the situation had been reversed I don't doubt you and half the crew would've tumbled into space trying to save me." Tw'eak laughed. "Probably would've gone better if it'd been me sucked into the vacuum - Andorians handle the cold better than Bolians, after all."

Dazz tried to laugh but it came out as a whooping, hacking cough. "Don't make me wish that was true," she finally said once she had control over her breathing again.

"Listen, Dazz. About those new orders. I've been asked to assist Starfleet in some sort of advisory capacity. I can't tell you more than that right now - tomorrow morning I have a briefing here with Admiral Quinn. He's permitting me a staff to consult with and advise me on this role of mine. I've asked for you to join us, if that's medically feasible."

"I don't know anything about-"

"At this point, neither do I. I'll find out tomorrow. We'll see where we go from there. But I wanted you to hear it from me, and for you to know that, when you're ready, I'm looking forward to having your help in my next assignment, whatever it is." Tw'eak smiled at Dazz. "I wouldn't want you along if I didn't value your insight, and if I didn't consider you someone who enjoyed my complete confidence."

"Thank you," Dazz rasped. She lowered her head back onto the pillow as Tw'eak stood up.

"I'm afraid I'll have to be taking my leave, for the moment." She smirked at Dazz. "We've faced all sorts of enemies in our time serving together, but these nurses are the first ones that actually scare me."

Dazz smiled. "Me too."

"Don't worry about anything. We'll see you again soon." Tw'eak made a point of drawing herself up into a perfect salute, which, given her limited mobility, wasn't easy. But standing at attention was worth it in this case. Dazz offered a salute in reply, lying down, and smiled up at Tw'eak with tears in her eyes as she turned and walked out. On her way, Tw'eak made a point of making eye contact with the nurse as she left, offering a slight wave and a half-smile on her way out.

* * *

That night had been a difficult one for Tw'eak. Mostly out of consideration for everyone else, since it might constitute an intrusion on their last remaining leave time for the captain to show up uninvited, Tw'eak kept to herself, spending a little time making a valiant effort to walk around parts of Spacedock before telling herself to forget it and go to bed. Not that bed had been much of a help unto itself - despite the incredibly comfortable one provided in her temporary quarters, and the fact that she desperately needed the rest, Tw'eak simply could not get her brain to leave her alone. There were variables, unknowns, points of consideration, matters left unresolved... and she wanted answers. It took her two hours, and a rather silly attempt to order it to sleep, before she was finally able to roll stiffly to her right and realize the computer was inviting her to wake up.

"Good morning. The time is currently oh-six-hundred hours. Please be advised that Earth Spacedock is in Condition Alpha. Good morning. The time is currently..."

"Computer, discontinue alarm." The computer chirped in the affirmative and Tw'eak began the long, slow process of getting out of bed. She tried to stretch, carefully, and straightened out before continuing to roll and place her feet on the ground. She tilted upwards, her antennae brushing against her stretching arms as she did so, and stood.

A long shower, a fresh uniform and a cup of replicated (and disappointing) katheka later, Tw'eak put her hair back in the mirror and pulled up her uniform collar just a little higher in order to conceal the ragged kut'luch scar on her neck. She took a quick look at her face, checking to ensure that her hair was all well out of the way, and that she looked appropriately confident and ambitious. A couple of faces in the mirror later, she gave up. "Hopefully no one there is a Betazoid," she remarked to herself.

"Unable to process request," the computer replied.

Tw'eak sighed. She had been able to adapt the computer response level in her quarters on the Bonaventure, and just about every other ship and station she'd ever served upon, to become accustomed to her occasional asides, but this had been a one-night-only interaction, and as such, she hadn't troubled herself. Irritated, she sought to change the subject. "Time check, computer?"

"The time is currently oh-six-forty-seven."

"Is there anywhere on this station where I can get non-replicated katheka?"

The computer's alert was in the negative. "Unable to process request."

"No, I mean, is there a little shop or anything like that?"

"No such service is currently available. All food and drink items on spacedock are available exclusively through the replicator."

"In that case, I won't stop for a second cup." She walked out of the quarters, leaving the bed tidy and the room put back together before she left. Silently, she mused to herself how many bars of gold-pressed latinum she could probably pocket from the various Andorians in Starfleet service on ESD to get their hands on a genuine cup of katheka. It might make for a worthwhile retirement plan... assuming she survived long enough to- _No,_ she told herself. _That sort of cynicism doesn't get any attention today. It won't do for a rear admiral in Starfleet to be..._

For whatever reason, the human expression that equated a colour with a hint of sadness crept into her mind. And there, in the midst of a corridor, on her way to a turbolift and the most important meeting of her career, Acting Rear Admiral Twaiheak Sh'lo Shabbas promptly burst into hysterics, startling a Pakled ensign so badly in the process that he fell over. This did nothing to quell Tw'eak's laughter, and she half-stumbled half-guffawed her way to the turbolift after offering the terrified looking ensign a hand up.

The briefing room connected to Admiral Quinn's office was just down the steps and around a corner from his desk. Quinn himself had waved to Tw'eak as he came in, being pestered by orderlies and a small mob of Starfleet officers at the time. Tw'eak rounded the corner to find O'Leary, Aurora and T'uni already there.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she opened.

"None of us are presently late," T'uni replied.

"I meant, I should've been here earlier."

"I'm nervous," Aurora offered. "Should I be nervous?"

"Should I be?" Tw'eak asked her in reply.

T'uni tilted her head slightly. "It is considered acceptable among your species to experience anxiety in the face of changing circumstances."

"Yeah, I know, but I couldn't eat breakfast. And I love breakfast. Mom was so worried." Aurora's mood changed suddenly, becoming bright with recollection. "I got to sleep in my old room last night. First time since before I was posted to the Bonaventure." She looked at Tw'eak excitedly. "Mom was so proud. Can I tell her what we're doing?"

"I don't know yet, but probably not. At most you can tell her what the nearest star is."

"Oh." Aurora was crestfallen. "We were trying to guess. I even called Bianca and tried to see what she thought, but she didn't know either."

O'Leary laughed. "Whatever you guess probably means that's not it."

"Are you suggesting that a hypothesis would eliminate the option from contention?" T'uni inquired.

"Not at all - what I mean is, whatever it is they want us to do, they're not going to pull us out of the front lines unless it's something different from the routine." He sniffed. "That's my guess, anyway."

Octavia made her way down the ramp to join the assembled officers. "I apologize, I did not intend to be late."

T'uni started to explain, but Tw'eak raised a hand. "We were just trying to figure out what they're gonna have us do," Aurora said to Octavia. "What do you think?"

Octavia stood still for a moment, apparently in contemplation. "I have no idea. Have they informed us yet?"

"No," O'Leary replied. "But I was saying, I bet it'll be something totally unconventional."

"What would you think of as conventional, then?" Aurora asked him.

"Well... I don't know... the captain said we'd be in an advisory role, is that right?" Tw'eak nodded. "So it could be something like systems design, or starship production, or maybe a tactical position - I bet it'll be something ground-based, too." O'Leary thought for a moment. "They're sending us on a raid."

"A raid?" Octavia said, surprised.

"See? Last thing you'd expect. We're going to infiltrate something."

T'uni raised an eyebrow. "Starfleet has specialized forces who are more than capable of performing infiltration from among the ranks of the Marines. They would not request a captain and her bridge officers as advisors for such a role."

"Then... maybe planning a raid. Or maybe even a major operation - co-ordinating the whole thing."

"Admiral Quinn and his staff would be more than capable of-"

Octavia had an insight. "Counter-plan."

T'uni turned and looked at her. "Counter-plan?"

"Yeah," Aurora added, "What's that?"

"We will be asked not to analyze what our forces will do, but to serve as an adversary squadron and attempt to anticipate the enemy's tactics."

"Okay, but which enemy? The Hirogen?"

"Too recent," Octavia said. "I would surmise the Tal Shiar, or perhaps the Elachi. However, this is all speculation."

"Wild speculation," Tw'eak said tersely. She looked around. "Anyone know where Doc and Zed are?"

"Oh, they-" Aurora looked around sheepishly. "They had a stop to make first."

As if on cue, a turbolift door at the back of the room opened, and a grav-chair hovered into view. Accompanying the chair and walking behind it were Doc Ellington and Zed. Their patient, smiling proudly and in full uniform, was Birmal Dazz. Aurora gasped, and O'Leary took a step back as if to catch her before she fainted. "Hey, Dazz," he said after a moment.

"It is most agreeable to see you again, Lieutenant," T'uni said demurely.

"Agreed," Octavia added. "Good to see you."

Aurora rushed to Dazz's side. "Hi Dazz!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe you made it!"

"Not the thing to say to someone who's been sucked into space recently," Doc quipped.

"Oh my God! I'm sorry, I mean I can't believe you made it here! Here, I meant here!" She looked around frantically.

"It's okay," Dazz said, reaching a hand out to take Aurora's into hers. "Not going to... talk much..." She looked up at Tw'eak.

"Not a problem."

Doc reached behind and brought a breathing mask forward for Dazz. "It's for your own good." She pointed at the room with her other hand. "We're all friends here, nobody's going to be offended if you breathe normally for a while."

"C'mon, Dazz," Zed implored from where he stood at her other side.

"All right," Dazz conceded, and Doc fitted the mask to her face.

"There, now, see? That's better. Zed will be right next to you the whole time if you need to offer anything."

O'Leary moved a chair aside from the conference table, and Dazz's grav-chair was pushed up against it. Zed then took the seat and sat at her side. A few awkward moments followed, in which Aurora asked a few random questions and Octavia and O'Leary continued their speculations. Before long, though, Admiral Quinn appeared at the opposite entrance, at the top of a ramp which led down the far side of the room, from behind his desk. With him came another admiral, a tall human in an engineer's uniform, with skin in a shade of saffron, and a shock of straight brown hair running just over the crest of his scalp. A third human admiral, this one balding, a bit shorter, with a touch of a smile behind a thin, dark beard and a tactical uniform, followed shortly behind.

The dominant presence in the room, a greying Trill with facial hair and the telltale spots of his people running down the side of his face, Admiral Quinn gave Tw'eak, T'uni, Doc and Octavia time to find seats. Zed offered his to Doc, as there weren't enough for all the admirals present, and he stood with Aurora and O'Leary across the back of the room.

"Welcome," Quinn said from the end of the table. The two admirals and T'uni took up one side of the table, while Tw'eak sat with Octavia to her right. Dazz, with Doc beside her, made up the rest of the table. Quinn turned to the first admiral, the engineer. "May I introduce Vice Admiral Victor Currie of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, and Rear Admiral Neil Hawkins, Starfleet Tactical."

Tw'eak nodded to the admirals as they were introduced. Currie's face was plain, emotionless and inscrutable - he seemed to be a man who was all about the business at hand, whatever that proved to be. Hawkins, however, was different - he was watching Tw'eak, and her officers, neither aggressively nor cordially, but somehow both, as if daring any of them to make a sudden move.

"Let's get right to it, shall we? Vic, if you would."

"Um, if I may first, sir," Hawkins interjected. "What you are about to be told is absolutely top secret. You are being involved in this phase of the project despite not necessarily having a complete security clearance, so I would like to advise you that your transmissions and your associations will be monitored to ensure the security of this project." Hawkins took a breath. "You are not to discuss this project, even with others in this room, unless security precautions have been thoroughly taken. If you do not feel you can abide by these restrictions, you are free to leave, and you will be reassigned." Hawkins' eyes moved from one to the next throughout the room. "Good." Hawkins looked at Tw'eak. "You'll also be held responsible for any breaches in security-"

"I think we've done enough to scare them," Quinn said with a half-smile. "Admiral Sh'abbas knows her responsibilities, as do her crew." He turned to T'uni. "In fact, it's due to a member of that crew that we're able to have you here today." T'uni merely arched an eyebrow. "I'd best let Admiral Currie explain that, though."

"Thank you, sir." Currie tapped the console on the desk. "Over the past nine months, Starfleet has taken great pains to create, in secret, a new class of ships which we believe will even the odds against the Klingons and make it possible for us to turn the tide of the war." Red beams arced from the table, catching Currie in the eye. A retinal scan verified his identity, and he was able to proceed once the security check cleared. "Now, Starfleet's problem, to date, has been a lack of ships that fit in between the Akira-class starship you're all very used to flying, and the Sovereign class cruiser. We've been re-using Excelsior-class spaceframes but some of those are in excess of two hundred years old. Even with refits we can't keep up. Klingon ship classes like the Vor'cha and Tor'Kaht are tearing us apart - they're durable enough to out-fight our escorts, with the exception of the Prometheus class starships and its ilk, but those are few and far between, and the Klingons know to target them." The display completed loading, showing a starship that was a cross between the old Excelsior and the Sovereign - the size of an Excelsior with the stocky shape and component parts of a Sovereign. "Let me present to you what we're calling Project Blue Knight." He gave the assembled officers a moment to watch the spinning holo-display showing a ship of the class. "We're hoping, if it finishes trials to Starfleet's satisfaction, that we can commence immediate production. The first ship is to be named USS Avenger."

"Avenger," Tw'eak repeated to herself. The stats on this vessel were remarkable. The power output, the sheer number of weapons hardpoints, the durability and resiliency of the design, with multiple-redundant systems in place across the ship and reinforced ablative armour plating... it was like a Klingon's idea of what a Federation ship should look like. "I like it."

"That's why we've brought you in," Quinn carried on. "As part of your discovery of an Orion spy ring operating within Federation circles, we learned that several of the members of the design crew, whom we believed to be Andorian, were in fact Orions posing as such."

"It wouldn't be the first time Orions have posed as Andorians, of course," Hawkins added.

"Orions can pose as many types of sentient humanoids," Tw'eak countered, keeping her antennae from leaning forward in offense. "It's what they're good at." She stared down Hawkins, curious as to whether he'd ever faced Orions in combat.

Quinn continued speaking, and Tw'eak and Hawkins eventually broke eye contact. "The discovery of these Orions, however, has shaken the confidence of some of the members of our design team." He raised a hand palm-up towards Tw'eak. "This is where you come in. We want you to go to the project's base of operations and take a consultancy role in her design. We'll need your combat experience and your areas of expertise in order to help our designers better understand just what we need. You've faced Klingon ships, Nausicaan raiders, even the Hirogen. You know the kind of design we're looking for."

"Starfleet very much wants this new class of ships to fight like heavy escorts but be durable like cruisers," Currie continued. "Your service record features tactical service on Sovereign-class and Akira-class starships; those are the two starship classes we are most keen on trying to hybridize into a single design with this particular spaceframe."

"And," Hawkins chimed in, "if any damage or sabotage has been done by the Orions to the program, you'll be more likely to find it than systems specialists or technicians."

"Where are we to be stationed?" Tw'eak asked.

"The location of this particular installation is classified. However, you will be granted supervised access to subspace communications and parcel delivery. You'll also be given leave as per the normal scheduling procedure, although that'll be a while in coming, with the exception of Lieutenant Dazz, of course."

"Of course. What phase of... Project Blue Knight, you called it?" Currie nodded. "What phase of completion are we at presently?"

Currie handed Tw'eak a padd. "The basic spaceframe has been completed, the warp core and deflector systems are ready to go operational, and the main computer cores have both been installed but are currently inactive. Life support is operational, and the interior decks are being completed with housing for a crew of about five hundred. No weapons or science facilities have been installed yet, nor has the hull armour, although the exterior skin of the spaceframe is present over about eighty percent. And I believe the warp nacelles are being installed presently." He looked to Quinn, who nodded. "I don't have a chronometer, I can't be sure."

"It's all right," Quinn replied. He looked to Tw'eak. "The future of this project depends on you and your officers." He glanced past Tw'eak at each of those officers in turn. "The future of the Federation may depend upon this project. I realize you'll all be disappointed to be out of action, but your contributions to this project may count for a lot more, further on down the line. Do any of you have any questions."

There was a slight murmur, as Tw'eak and her officers looked to each other. It was Octavia who raised a hand.

"Yes, Eight of Twelve?"

"Sir, I believe I speak on behalf of all of us when I ask..." Octavia smiled at the admirals. "How soon can we get started?


End file.
